PHYLLIS' FIELD FRIENDS 




^r—N--^ 




Class _w<._i\:^ 
Book_ 






Goi)yrightN^__ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 



FLOWER STORIES 



• T^ ■■■¥MMMMM¥M«Hli'«MH'V 






•^^ 






♦1^ 






Phyllis' Field Friends 

BY 

Lenore E. Mulcts 

£acA I vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, 
with 6 full-page plates from drawings 
by Sophie Schneider. Per vol., 8oc. ?tet. 
Postpaid, g^c. 

INSECT STORIES 

BIRD STORIES 

FLOWER STORIES 

STORIES OF LITTLE ANIMALS 

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 

New England Building, Boston, Mass. 



AAAAaAAAAAAAaAAAAA 






" ' "The arbutus is par- 
' ticularly fond of 
pine-woods and light 
sandy soil ' " 

(See page 50) 




'^VHtiCX^IK. 



i^ljSlUs* JFielt JFrtentis 



FLOWER STORIES 



By 
Lenore Elizabeth Mulcts 

Illustrated by 

Sophie Schneider 



' When our babe he goeth walking in his garden 
A round his tinkling feet the sunbeams play ; 
The posies they are good to him 
A 7id bow them as they should to him, 
As Ite/areth upon his kingly way : 
The birdlings of the wood to him 

Make music, gentle music, all the day 

When our babe he goeth walking in his garden.'''' 

— Eugene Field. 




Boston: «^ L, C Page 
and Company ^ igo4 






THt L,.- ..... . 

/ COPY 8. I 



Copyright, jgos 
By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 



All rights reserved 



Published November, 1903 






Eledrotyped and Printed by C. H. Slmonds & Co. 
Boston, Mass.. U. S. A. 



PREFACE 

When the flowers of the field and the gar- 
den lift their bright faces to you, can you call 
them by name and greet them as old acquaint- 
ances? Or, having passed them a hundred 
times, are they still strangers to you'? 

In this little book of " Flower Stories," only 
our very familiar friends have been planted. 
About them have been woven our favourite 
poems, songs, and stories. 

It has been the writer's intention to group 
together and make beautiful and interesting 
the facts which we already know, or may 
readily discover, if we but open our eyes and 
read Mother Nature's story-book, which con- 
tains so many lovely pages. 

Lenore Elizabeth Mulets. 



CONTENTS 



The Snowdrop 

In the Spring - Time Garden 

The Seed . 

How the Snowdrop Came 

Calling Them Up 

To the Snowdrop 

All About the Snowdrop 

The Narcissus and the Tulip 
All in a Garden Fair . 
Daffy- Down -Dilly . 
Narcissus . 
Grandmother's Garden 
A Tulip Story . 
To Daffodils 
All About the Narcissus 
All About the Tulip . 

The Arbutus 

From Under the Pines 
Trailing Arbutus 

All About the Trailing Arbutus 
flower 



or 



May- 



Jack-in-the-Pulpit 

About a Little Preacher 
Jack - in - the - Pulpit . 
All About the Jack 
Indian Turnip 

vii 



in - the - Pulpit or 



3 

7 

8 

10 

11 

14 



17 

22 
25 
29 
32 
41 
43 
44 



47 

52 

55 



59 
65 

71 



viii CONTENTS 






PAGE 


Tlie Pansy and Forget-Me-Not 




In Mamma's Room .... 


. 75 


The Foolish Pansy .... 


. 81 


The Pansy .*.... 


. 85 


The Pansy's Story .... 


. 87 


The Story of the Forget - Me - Not 


. 89 


All About the Pansy or Heartsease 


. 92 


All About the Forget - Me - Not . 


. 93 


The Wild Rose 




Banks of Roses ..... 


. 97 


Two Little Roses .... 


. 103 


The Moss Rose 


. 10-1 


How the Sweetbrier Became Pink 


. 107 


The Transplanted Flower . 


. 109 


A Christmas Rose .... 


. 116 


All About the Wild Rose . 


. 123 


The Buttercup 




In the Pasture 


. 127 


The Gold of the Meadow . 


. 131 


All About the Buttercup 


. 135 


The Iris 




With Wet Feet 


. 139 


The Rainbow Messenger 


. 147 


All About the Iris or Blue Flag . 


. 150 


The Poppy 




In Scarlet Drest .... 


. 155 


The Corn - Flower and the Poppy 


. 159 


All About the Poppy .... 


. 168 


The Shooting-Star 




Among the Grasses .... 


. 171 



CONTENTS 


ix 


The Shooting -Stars .... 


PAGK 

. 175 


All About the Shooting - Star or Bird's Bill 179 


The Daisy and the Sunflower 




In Sunshiny Corners .... 


. 183 


The Daisy . . . . 


. 189 


Daisy Nurses 


. 200 


A "Sunflower Story .... 


. 202 


All About the White or Ox - Eyed Daisy 


. 207 


All About the Sunflower 


. 208 


The Goldenrod and the Aster 




On the Hillside 


. 211 


Little Purple Aster .... 


. 215 


Goldenrod and Aster .... 


. 216 


Goldenrod 


. 222 


All About the Goldenrod . 


. 225 


All About the Aster .... 


. 226 


The Fringed Gentian 




At the End of Summer 


. 231 


Fringed Gentian .... 


. 235 


For a Night's Shelter .... 


. 237 


All About the Fringed Gentian . 


. 240 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGE 



'' ' The arbutus is particularly fond of 

pine-woods and light sandy soil ' " 

(see page 50) . . . Frontispiece 
^' Phyllis stood in the midst of the 

garden " 18 

*^ When she returned to the roses, 

Phyllis came more gently " . . 99 
*^ Some purplish blue flowers growing 

near the bank " . . . . 141 
'' ' What a sweet, simple little flower 

you are,' said Phyllis " . . . 184 
^' ' Take us both. We bloomed for 

you,' said the aster " . . . 214 



THE SNOWDROP 



THE SNOWDROP 

IN THE SPRING - TIME GARDEN 

'' Oh-ooo! " 

It was a most delighted little cry. In fact, 
Phyllis was a most delighted little girl. Right 
here in her own garden was the first spring 
blossom. Phyllis 's bright brown eyes shone 
eagerly, and her brown gold curls blew wildly 
as she rushed to the door to tell the family. 

^^ It was my secret! " cried the little girl, 
dancing first on one foot and then on the other. 
** IVe known for whole days that it was com- 
ing! " 

'' What is it? " cried Jack. '' When did it 
arrive? Who brought it? What is it? " 



4 THE SNOWDROP 

*^ I think the sunshine brought it/' said 
Phyllis. '' I think that warm rain yesterday 
helped bring it. It is a little snowdrop. Come 
and see how lovely it is! How it hangs its 
pretty nodding head and how it lets the wind 
rock it! " 

After the family had admired the little mes- 
senger of spring and gone back into the house, 
Phyllis still lingered. 

^' You are very lovely," said Phyllis, stoop- 
ing lower over the little cluster of blossoms. 

'' I am so glad you have come. You see, w^hen 
I put those dry-looking bulbs in the ground 
last fall, it seemed hard to believe that any- 
thing so dainty and delicate and sweet as you 
could come from them." 

The snowdrop nodded sweetly at Phyllis 's 
words of praise. 



IN THE SPRING-TIME GARDEN 5 

*^ I always come with the earliest spring 
sunshine/^ said the snowdrop. 

^' 1 wish I knew all about you/' said the 
little girl, wistfuUy. '' The birds and the bees 
have told me their stories. I should so love 
to know about the blossoms which come every 
summer to make me happy. '' 

** I am a very simple flower," said the snow- 
drop, ^' but I have lived in the world for coimt- 
less summers. If you like, I will tell you what 
I can of myself." 

Phyllis drew closer to the little plant and 
softly touched it with her finger-tips. 

'* Do tell me," she said. 

*^ I am one of the blossoms of spring," said 
the snowdrop. ^^ I come to tell you that the 
long winter is over; that the summer will soon 
be here. 

** I usually bear my blossoms in an umbel, 



6 THE SNOWDROP 

though there is sometimes but a single blos- 
som on a stalk.'' 

" What is an umbel? " Phyllis wondered. 

'' An umbel, Phyllis, is a number of blos- 
soms starting from a conm.ion centre on a sin- 
gle stalk." 

^^ Your petals are not all the same size," 
said Phyllis. ' ' I notice that though you really 
have six petals, the three outer ones are large 
and lap over the smaller inner petals. The 
outer petals are notched. How snowy white 
they are, and what a tender green are your 
grasslike leaves." 

But the snowdrop only nodded its bowed 
head, and said not another word. 



THE SEED 

A wonderful thing is a seed; 

The one thing deathless for ever; 
For ever old and for ever new, 
Utterly faithful and utterly true — 

Fickle and faithless never. 

Plant lilies, and lilies will bloom; 

Plant roses, and roses will grow; 
Plant hate, and hate to life will spring; 
Plant love, and love to you will bring 

The fruit of the seed you sow. 



HOW THE SNOWDROP CAME 

The whole earth was bare and desolate. The 
trees were bare, and the grasses were broken 
and brown. The snow fell fitfully. 

Adam and Eve sat outside the Garden of 
Eden and remembered th'^ beautiful green of 
the leaves and grasses, and the gorgeous col- 
ours of the flowers. 

Then Eve shivered and sobbed softly to her- 
self, for the earth seemed big and empty. All 
had once been lovely. 

Then an angel in heaven looked down and 
saw Eve weeping. And the angel came down 
to comfort her. 

As the angel spake to Eve a snowflake fell 



HOW THE SNOWDROP CAME 9 

on her hair. The angel took it in his hand. 
'' Look, Eve," said the angel. " This little 
flake of snow shall change into a flower for 
you. It shall bud and bring forth blossoms for 
you! " 

As he spoke, the angel placed the snow- 
flake on the ground at the feet of Eve. As 
it touched the earth it sprang up a beautiful 
flower of purest white. 

And Eve, lopking down, saw the blossom, 
and dried her tears and smiled in joy. 

** Take heart, dear Eve," said the angel. 
** Be hopeful and despair not. Let this little 
snowdrop be a sign to you that the summer 
and the simshine will come again." 

And about the feet of Eve there sprang up 
through the snow numberless little white- 
cupped blossoms. Thus, the legend tells us, 
the snowdrop came to earth. 



CALLING THEM UP 



ii 



Shall I go and call them up,— 
Snowdrop, daisy, buttercup? " 

Lisped the rain. '' They've had a pleasant 
winter's nap." 

Lightly to their doors it crept, 
Listened, while they soundly slept; 

Gently woke them with its rap-a-tap-a-tap! 

Quickly woke them with its rap-a-tap-a-tap! 

Soon their windows opened wide,— 
Everything astir inside; 
Shining heads came peeping out, in frill and 
cap; 

*^ It was kind of you, dear rain," 
Laughed they all, ^' to come again. 
We were waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap! 
Only waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap! " 



10 



TO THE SNOWDROP 

Pretty firstling of the year! 

Herald of the host of flowers! 
Hast thou left thy cavern drear, 

In the hope of summer hours? 

Back unto thy earthen bowers ! 
Back to thy warm world below, 

Till the strength of sun and showers 
Quell the now relentless snow! 

Art still here ? Alive ? and blithe ? 

Though the stormy Night hath fled, 
And the Frost hath passed his scythe 

O'er thy small, unsheltered head? 

Ah!— some lie amidst the dead, 

(Many a giant, stubborn tree,— 

11 



12 THE SNOWDROP 

Many a plant, its spirit shed), 
That were better nursed than thee! 

What hath saved thee? Thou wast not 

'Gainst the arrowy winter furred,— 
Armed in scale,— but all forgot 

When the frozen winds were stirred. 

Nature, who doth clothe the bird, 
Should have hid thee in the earth. 

Till the cuckoo's song was heard, 
And the Spring let loose her mirth. 

Nature,— deep and mystic word! 

Mighty mother, still unknown! 
Thou didst sure the snowdrop gird 

With an armour all thine own! 

Thou, who sent'st it forth alone 
To the cold and sullen season, 

(Like a thought at random thrown), 
Sent it thus for some grave reason! 



TO THE SNOWDROP 13 

If 'twere but to pierce the mind 

With a single, gentle thought, 
Who shall deem thee harsh or blind, 

Who that thou hast vainly wrought? 

Hoard the gentle virtue caught 
From the snowdrop,— reader wise! 

Good is good, wherever taught. 
On the groinid or in the skies ! 

—Barry Cornwall, 



ALL ABOUT THE SNOWDROP 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to amaryllis family. 

Blossoms in early spring. 

Common in gardens — grows from bulb. 

Flowers generally on an umbel — at other 
times single — in colour they are pure white, 
with drooping nodding heads. No cups for 
flower— three of the petals are longer than 
the other three. These are notched and lap 
over the shorter ones. Three cells to pod. 

Leaves long, slender, grass-like. 



14 



THE 
NARCISSUS AND THE TULIP 



THE NARCISSUS AND 
THE TULIP 

ALL IN A GARDEN FAIR 

The tulips stood up very stiff and tall. They 
looked neither to the left nor the right, but 
straight up toward the sky. They lifted their 
stiff petals a little higher as if shrugging their 
shoulders. Their stiff stalks would have 
broken rather than have bent. 

The great yellow daffodils stood in a long 
golden row just across the path from the 
tulips. They danced and bowed and shook 
their fluffy heads. They nodded in a very 
friendly fashion to their cousins, who huddled 
shyly together in the comer of the garden. 



18 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

Now the daffodils' cousins were the nar- 
cissus blossoms who bloomed in quiet beauty 
in the garden corner. They w^ere as tall as 
the yellow daffodils, and more slender. 

They wore lovely broad white collars, and 
their golden hearts were bound with dainty 
pink or crimson. They seemed not half as 
proud and stiff' as the tulips, nor half as gaudy 
and gay as the daffodils. 

Indeed, the narcissus blossoms paid little 
heed to the more gaudy flowers. They just 
bloomed in quiet and peace for those who 
cared for them. 

Phyllis stood in the midst of the garden and 
listened for the faint flower voices. 

'' Those are cousins of mine." The daffodil 
spoke to a scarlet tulip, and she nodded in the 
direction of the narcissus blossoms. 

^* Do you mean that the narcissus is a rela- 




► hyllis stood in the 
midst of the gar- 



den 



ALL IN A GARDEN FAIR 19 

tion of yom^s? '' asked the tulip, still looking 
skyward. 

^' Yes, indeed," said the daffodil. " We do 
not look much alike, to be sure. But our family 
name is the same." 

'' Now that you mention it," said the tulip, 
** I think there is a little resemblance. You 
both have those long, slender stalks and those 
grasslike leaves. But you wear yellow while 
the narcissus dresses in white and gold. What 
is your family name? " 

** Both the narcissus and myself belong to 
the amaryllis family," said the daffodil, 
proudly. '' My blossoms are larger and more 
showy, but there are those who like my 
cousin's dress the better. She is called the 
poet's narcissus, while I am daffodil nar- 
cissus — " 

'^ But we children have a dearer name for 



20 THE NAECISSUS AND TULIP 

you,'' Phyllis interrupted. '^ We call you 
little daffy-do wn-diUy." 

The daffodil shook all her many skirts out 
proudly in the sunshine. Then she bowed 
three times until her head fairly touched the 
groimd. The tulips still stared stiffly at the 
sky. 

^' We belong to the lily family/' said one 
tulip, after a pause. " We wear gorgeous 
dresses and hold our heads proudly because 
Mother Nature bade us do so. 

^^ We are dear friends of those wonderful 
creatures, the bees. The butterflies, too, 
sometimes visit us.'' 

'' I think," said PhylUs, shyly, " that the 
butterflies must be your cousins, or, at least, 
you must get your dresses from the same 
loom." 

The tulips could not bow, but one less stiff 



ALL IN A GARDEN FAIR 21 

than the others actually shook so hard with 
laughter that a section of its dress fell off. 

** What a dear little girl," said the quiet 
poet's narcissus from the corner. '' I am glad 
that we live in her garden. '^ 

It was Phyllis 's turn to bow and run into 
the house to tea. 



DAFFY - DOWN - DILLY 

Poor little Daffy-do wn-dilly ! 

She slept with her head on a rose, 
When a sly moth-miller kissed her, 

And left some dust on her nose. 

Poor little Daffy-do wn-dilly! 

She woke when the clock struck ten, 
And hurried away to the fairy queen's 
ball, 

Down in the shadowy glen. 

Poor little Daffy-do wn-dilly! 

Eight dainty was she, and fair. 
In her bodice of yellow satin. 

And petticoat green and rare. 

22 



DAFFY - DOWN - DILLY 23 

But to look in her dew-drop mirror, 
She quite forgot when she rose, 

And into the queen's high presence 
Tripped with a spot on her nose. 

Then the little knight w^ho loved her — 
0, he wished that he were dead : 

And the queen's maid began to titter, 
And tossed her saucy head. 

And up from her throne so stately, 
The wee queen rose in her power, 

Just waved her light wand o'er her. 
And she changed into a flower. 

Poor little Daffy-do wn-dilly ! 

Now in silver sprmg-time hours. 
She wakes in the sunny meadows, 

She lives with other flowers. 



24 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

Her beautiful yellow bodice, 

With green skirts wears she still; 

And the children seek and love her, 
But they call her daffodil. 



NARCISSUS 

Once, in a far-away country, there lived a 
handsome youth whose name was Narcissus. 
He was a very beautiful young man. His hair 
was as yellow as the flax stalks when they are 
ripe. His eyes were as blue as the flax flowers 
when they bloom. His face was as pink and 
as white as the clouds in a morning sky. 

But Narcissus sat beside a stream and wept. 
He looked neither to the right nor to the left. 
His tears flowed fast, and his heavy sobs were 
the only sound to be heard in the wood. 

Then there came roaming by the brook side 
a maiden. She was as beautiful as the cool 
shadows of the woodland. She was as gentle 

25 



26 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

as the spring breezes among the grasses. She 
spoke to Narcissus. 

'' I am Echo, the maid of the hills and 
the wood," said the maiden. '^ Long have I 
watched you as you mourned. Often have I 
called and you did not heed. 

'' I know the cause of your grief, Narcissus. 
I have heard how you once had a lovely 
twin sister. She was the very image of 
yourself. 

'^ I have heard how your lovely twin sister 
has now crossed the river of Death. Now you 
mourn day after day and will not be com- 
forted. 

'^ Look up, Narcissus, I pray you! Tour 
tears cannot bring your sister again to you. 
Look up, and I, Echo, will comfort you! " 

Now the voice of Echo was soft and sweet, 
and her words were kind, but Narcissus did 



NARCISSUS 27 

not look up. He bent farther over the stream 
which flowed so slowly just there. 

As he glanced down into the water, Nar- 
cissus started in surprise. He thought he saw 
his sister looking up into his eyes from the 
quiet depth of the water. Again and again 
did Echo call, but Narcissus no longer even 
heard her voice. 

Still Narcissus gazed at his own reflection 
in the water, thinking that he looked into the 
eyes of his lost sister. 

Day after day he sat there gazing, and sor- 
rowing that he could not reach her. The face 
in the water looked sad, and Narcissus would 
fain have comforted his sister. 

Not for one moment would he leave the 
brook side. Not for one instant would he heed 
the sad, sweet pleadings of Echo. 

Thus, sorrowing for his lost twin sister, Nar- 



28 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

cissus died. Then the voice of Echo, the beau- 
tiful, became softer and sadder. Her form 
became more and more slender mitil at last 
she could no longer be seen, though her voice 
might still be heard. 

Then one day there sprang up by the brook 
side a slender, beautiful flower, as white as 
the cheeks of the maiden, as yeUow as the 
hair of the youth. 

Its blossoms bent over the water, and their 
reflections swam beneath. And the drooping 
willows, which hung over the stream, looked 
down at the strange new blossom, and 
touched leaves and whispered: ^^ It is Nar- 
cissus. It is the youth Narcissus! " 

And the soft, sighing voice of the formless 
maiden, Echo, replied, '' Narcissus! " 



GRANDMOTHER'S GARDEN 

Stately and prim grew the hollyhocks tall, 
In grandmother's garden against the wall; 
Fairest of flower-duennas were they, 
Keeping good watch through the long summer 

day. 
Close by was the sunshiny corner, where 
The foxgloves swayed in the balmy air, 
And nodded across to the larkspurs blue, 
And the pleasant nook where the columbines 

grew. 
There were cinnamon-roses, and, low at their 

feet, 
The shadowy cluster of day-lilies sweet, 



30 THE NAECISSUS AND TULIP 

And mignonette modest, and pensive heart 's- 

ease, 
And boy's love, and candytuft, sweet in the 

breeze. 

And, first every morn by the sun to be kissed, 
Grew, all in a tangle, fair love-in-a-mist, 
With bachelor's-buttons, and sweet williams 

gay, 
And spice pinks for neighbours just over the 

way; 
There were sweet peas coquettish, most fes- 
tive of flowers, 
And four-o 'clocks sturdy to mark off the 

hours, 
And frail morning-glories that laughed in the 

light 
At the phlox and verbenas, pink, purple, and 

white. 



GRANDMOTHER'S GARDEN 31 

All! the days ^Yere so bright, and so sweet was 

the air, 
And in grandmother's garden all life looked 

so fair! 

~ Dorothy Grey. 



A TULIP STORY 

In the sweet long ago, there lived a lovely 
old lady in the midst of a most beautiful gar- 
den. 

The old lady was quiet and gentle, and the 
flowers seemed to know her and grow for her 
as for no one else. 

They sprang up beside every path. 

In the earliest spring-time her tulips lifted 
up their stately heads and bowed as she 
passed among them. 

The sweet old lady watered the flower-beds 
and puUed the weeds from among the plants, 
and loosened the earth about their feet that 
they might grow taller and blossom more 
beautifully. 



A TULIP STORY 33 

One evening after simset, the old lady sat 
quietly in her garden. She watched the tulips 
as they rocked gently back and forth. 

She heard faint, sweet whisperings among 
the flowers and amid the long grasses. 

" They sound like the whisperings of the 
fairies," said the sweet old lady to herself. 

" Indeed," she went on, softly, " I have 
often heard that the fairies dance in the dell 
below. Why, then, should they not sometimes 
wander into my garden? " 

" Why not, indeed? " laughed the faintest 
fairy voice right in the sweet old lady's ear. 

Looking up, she saw the most wonderful 
little creature in soft, fluttering robes of 
shaded green. Her red-gold hair floated in a 
cloud over her shoulders. Her milk-white 
fairy feet peeped from beneath the shimmer- 
ing skirts. 



34 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

But most wonderful of all, the little creature 
bore in her arms a baby! It was the tiniest 
little pixie baby, wrapped so completely in 
its dainty green blankets that only a wee tip 
of its pink nose could be seen. 

" 1 am the Queen of the Fairies,'' said the 
tiny mother, as she gently rocked her baby to 
and fro. ^^ It is but right that I should let 
you know that we come often to your beautiful 
garden." 

The sweet old lady looked at the Queen of 
the Fairies and smiled. 

^^ I am truly glad that you find my garden 
a fit place for fairies," she said. " 1 have 
often been told that you danced in the dell. 
I have sometimes even fancied that I heard 
the faint, sweet tinkling of fairy music in my 
garden. But never before have I been sure 
that you really came." 



A TULIP STORY 35 

^^ Do you know," said the fairy, softly, for 
the fairy baby stirred in her arms, " do you 
know that it is here we come to sing our babies 
to sleep? " 

^^ Then I did hear fairy music? " 

'^ You heard the cradle-songs of the 
fairies, and sometimes you heard the cooing 
laugh of the fairy babies before they fell 
asleep. Sometimes you heard the soft swish 
of fairy dresses as we softly slid away to dance 
in the dell." 

^' And you left your babies sleeping in my 
garden! " said the sweet old lady, wonder- 
ingly. 

'^ Ah," laughed the Queen of the Fairies, 
'^ where else would they have been so safe? 
Your tulips kept our secret well. 

^^ They never told you that it was fairy 
nurses who rocked their stems so gently 



36 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

in the moonlight and the starlight. You 
thought it was the wind that swung their 
tall stalks. 

** You did not know that in the morning 
each tulip held her head so proudly because 
all night long a fairy baby had been cradled 
in her heart. 

*^ When you saw our babies' silver drinking- 
cups which the nurses hung in the sun to dry, 
you called them dewdrops which sparkled in 
the sunlight.'' 

" No," said the sweet old lady, ^' I did not 
know all those things. Neither did I know 
why my tulips grew so tall and fragrant and 
beautiful. But now I see it all, for fragrant 
and dainty and sweet must be the cradles of 
the babies of the fairies." 

The Queen of the Fairies laid her finger to 
her lips with a low " Sh-h," and, looking 



A TULIP STORY 37 

down, the sweet old lady saw that the fairy 
baby was fast asleep. 

The tiny mother seemed to blow across the 
old garden to the tallest golden tulip of them 
all. Then, softly singing, she laid her pre- 
cious little one in the stately cup which rocked 
ever so gently in the moonlight. 

'' I must be off to the dell,'' said she, a 
moment later. *' You will see that no harm 
befalls the cradles of our babies? " 

'' Yes, yes," cried the old lady, eagerly. 
'^ So long as I live I shall watch over my 
garden with care. I will not allow one blos- 
som to be broken from its stem." 

The Fairy Queen thanked her, and the old 
lady was left in the garden with the fairy 
babies and the fairy nurses who rocked the 
fairy cradles. 

But look as she might, the spell being 



38 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

broken, the sweet old lady could see nothing 
but her own beautiful tulips bending and 
bowing in the moonlight. 

For many years the sweet old lady kept her 
garden. For many years she heard the soft 
sighs of the fairy babies and the w^hispering 
songs of the fairy mothers. For many years 
she watched the fairy cradles as the fairy 
nurses rocked them in the soft, mellow moon- 
light. 

Then at length the sweet old lady died and 
was buried in the little churchyard. The 
blossoms of her garden drooped on their 
stalks, withered, and died. 

One day the old lady's son came to the spot. 
He was a coarse, rough fellow, and he did not 
love nor understand flowers. 

'' Flowers are but nonsense! " said he. ^^ I 



A TULIP STORY 39 

shall plant parsnips in this garden. They 
will be good to eat! '' 

Then it was that the fairy mothers drew the 
fairy babies closer in their arms and left the 
garden for ever. 

^^ He cares for nothing but eating," said 
the fairies, as they danced together in the 
dell. " But we do not forget the sweet old 
lady. He shall never raise parsnips in her 
fairy garden." 

So the parsnips which the son planted did 
not grow. As soon as the seeds sprouted the 
young plants withered and died. 

** It is of no use," said the son, when again 
and again he had failed. '' But it is strange 
how those useless flowers which my mother 
planted would grow on this same spot." 

The fairies, hidden in their soft green robes 
amid the weeds and the grasses, laughed softly 



40 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

together, then danced away to the churchyard. 
There they scattered seeds on the grave of the 
sweet old lady, and they watered the seeds 
from the drinking-cups of the fairies. 

Soon there sprang up in the churchyard 
flowers as tall, as fragrant, as beautiful as 
those which had once grown in the garden of 
the fairies. 

And even to this day, if you creep softly to 
the spot when the moon is full and the clocks 
are striking twelve, you may see the stately 
tulip cradles bend and sway in the moonlight. 
Even to this day, if you listen, scarce breath- 
ing, you may hear the soft sighs of the fairy 
babies as they stir in their tulip cradles, and, 
listening still, you may hear the soft whisper- 
ing songs of the fairy mothers as they croon 
soft fairy music over their darlings, on their 
return from their dance in the dell. 



TO DAFFODILS 

Fair daffodils! we weep to see 

You haste away so soon; 
As yet the early-rising sun 

Has not attained his noon : 
Stay, stay 

Until the hastening day 
Has run 

But to the evensong; 
And, having prayed together, we 

Will go with you along. 

We have short time to stay as you, 
We have as short a spring; 

As quick a growth to meet decay, 
As you, or anything: 

41 



42 THE NARCISSUS AND TULIP 

We die, 
As your hours do; and dry- 
Away 
Like to the summer's rain, 
Or as the pearls of morning dew. 
Ne'er to be found again. 

— Robert Herrick. 



ALL ABOUT THE NARCISSUS 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to amaryllis family. 

An early spring blossom— found in gardens 

— grows from bulb. 

Poet's Narcissus. — Stem naked and flattish 

— about a foot in height — usually one 
flowered. Flower pure white, but the cen- 
tre, which is short and flat, is a rich yellow, 
rimmed with crimson or pink. 

Daffodil Narcissus. — Single flower on stem 
—it is a golden yellow with deeper yellow cup 
on the naked flower stalk. Very common in 
gardens — is generally double. 

Six stamens — three cells to pod. 

Leaves — long, slender, grass-like, with a 
sort of rounded ridge on under side. 

43 



ALL ABOUT THE TULIP 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to lily family. 

One of the early blossoms of the garden — 
herb — grows from bulb. 

Stem long, leafless, and imbranching, bear- 
ing a single blossom. 

Leaves all start from the ground, as do lily 
of the valley, etc. — leaves are rather broad 
and thick. 

Flowers bell-shaped — six distinct petal- 
like divisions — colours varied, ranging in 
many shades of red and yellow, or in a mixture 
of the two colours. 



THE ARBUTUS 



THE ARBUTUS 

FROM UNDER THE PINES 

The postman rang the bell earlier than usual 
that morning. To Phyllis he handed a good- 
sized box well wrapped in brown paper. 

^^ It's from Anntie Nan! '' cried Phyllis, in 
frantic haste to cut the string. ^^ It's from 
Auntie Nan! I know her writing! What can 
it be?" 

By this time the string was unfastened, and 
the brown paper torn off. Phyllis slipped the 
cover. 

'' Oh! " she said, as though her breath were 
quite taken away. 

47 



48 THE ARBUTUS 

^^ Oh! '' and her pink little face was buried 
in the box. ^^ Oh, where did you come from? '' 

The pink, pink bloom of the arbutus smiled 
up at her, and the delicious fragrance filled 
the whole room. 

There were great masses of the small, fra- 
grant blossoms. Phyllis happily lifted them 
from their box, and filled a big glass bowl 
with them. This she placed on the table in 
the dinmg-room. Their sweetness greeted all 
as they entered the room. 

In the bottom of the box was tucked a note 
from Auntie Nan. It was directed to Phyllis. 
Would you like to read the letter? 

'^ Dear little Spring Blossom: — Here are 
some of your little sisters come to keep your 
birthday with you. I know you will be glad 
to welcome them, especially when I tell you 



FROM UNDER THE PINES 49 

that I found them huddled snugly under some 
brown leaves and half covered with snow. 

'' ' We are Phyllis 's birthday blossoms/ 
they seemed to say, as I brushed away the 
leaves and the snow, and they looked bravely 
out. 

^^ So I gathered every one I could find; and 
I send them to you, little girl, because they 
make me think of a certain sweet little pink 
and white baby your mamma sent for me to 
come and see just eight years ago. 

" Are you not glad that you, too, are a little 
Mayflower, and that your birthday comes on 
the very first day? 

" You know% your friend, the poet, Whittier, 
calls these little wild wood flowers which I 
am sending ' The first sweet smiles of May '? 

'' Did I say that these flowers grew out on 
the hill among the pines where you played 



50 THE ARBUTUS 

last summer? They tell me that the arbutus 
is particularly fond of pine-woods and light 
sandy soil. 

'' Do you not call them brave to peep forth 
so very early? But, you see, they were really 
very well protected by their own heart-shaped 
leaves, which kept alive and green all winter 
just for the sake of those blossoms which were 
to come. 

'' I think it is no wonder that the Pilgrims, 
after that first hard, hard winter, were so 
happy to welcome this little messenger of 
spring. They called it the Mayflower. We 
people of New England still call it the May- 
flower, but by others it is called the trailing 
arbutus. Sometimes, too, I have heard it 
called ' mountain laurel.' 

^' I have no doubt but that the story of the 
Pilgrims is quite true, for the flower still grows 



FROM UNDER THE PINES 51 

in its lovely sweetness all about the hills of 
Plymouth. 

" Are you not glad that I call them your 
flowers, Phyllis'? Are you not glad that to 
us, you, too, are one of ' the first sweet smiles 
of May? ' 

" Wishing that all Mayflowers may bloom 
more and more sweetly as the seasons go, 
I am, 

'' Your loving 

" Auntie Nan." 



TRAILING ARBUTUS 

Darlings of the forest! 
Blossoming, alone, 
When Earth's grief is sorest 
For her jewels gone— 
Ere the last snowdrift melts, your tender buds 
have blown. 

Tinged with colour faintly, 
Like the morning sky. 
Or, more pale and saintly, 
Wrapped in leaves ye lie— 
Even as children sleep in faith's simplicity. 

There the wild wood-robin 
Hjrmns your solitude; 



TRAILING AEBUTUS 53 

And the rain comes sobbing 
Through the budding wood, 
While the low south wind sighs, but dare not 
be more rude. 



Were your pure lips fashioned 
Out of air and dew— 
Starlight unimpassioned, 
Dawn's most tender hue, 
And scented by the woods that gathered 
sweets for you? 

Fairest and most lonely, 
From the world apart; 
Made for beauty only, 
Veiled from Nature's heart 
With such unconscious grace as makes the 
dream of Art! 



54 THE ARBUTUS 

Were not mortal sorrow 
An immortal shade, 
Then would I to-morrow 
Such a flower be made, 
And live in the dear woods where my lost 
childhood played. 

— Rose Terry. 



ALL ABOUT THE TRAILING ARBUTUS 
OR MAYFLOWER 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to heath family. 

Blossoms in April and early May. 

Found in woodland, especially among pines, 
under the dead brown leaves of autiman — 
grows best in sandy soil. 

Stem is covered with fine hairs of rusty 
brown — is trailing like a vine. 

Flowers are small, clustered, and very fra- 
grant — in colour vary from purest white to 
deepest pink — hidden under its own broad, 
protecting leaves— five sepals— corollas five- 
lobed, hairy inside— pistil one— stamens ten. 

Leaves are evergreen — on hairy stalks, 
heart-shaped and thick. 

55 



JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 



JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT 

ABOUT A LITTLE PREACHER 

Jack was reading an Indian story. He had 
not spoken for an hour. He only shook his 
head when Phyllis invited him to walk in the 
woods with her. 

Now she peeped into the library, rosy- 
cheeked, bright-eyed, laughing. Jack was 
stiU with the Indians. 

*^ Jackie, dear, there are some friends of 
yours waiting in the parlour," said Phyllis. 

" They're late," said Jack, throwing his 
book down. 

'^ Just in season," said Phyllis, with a faint 
giggle. 



60 JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 

In a moment Jack came back. He was half- 
frowning, half -laughing. 

'' You fooled me that time, little sister," 
he said. '' There is no one waiting for me! " 

" Oh, yes, big brother, there is a whole fam- 
ily in there. They are just in season. Come, 
I will introduce you, since you seem to have 
forgotten.'' 

Phyllis led Jack back into the parlour. Still 
he saw no one. She led him up to a little 
side table. On it stood a vase and in it 
stood — 

'' Jack-in-the-pulpit, let me introduce Jack- 
my-big-brother/' and then PhyUis fell into a 
big chair and laughed. 

** Phyllis," began Jack, crossly, for now he 
remembered that he had left the Indian story 
unfinished. 

** Jack-in-the-pulpit is talking to you," said 



ABOUT A LITTLE PREACHER 61 

Phyllis, holding up a finger warningly. '' You 
are very rude. I'm sure you did not bow to 
his wife." 

^* How do you know which is Jack and 
which is Mrs. Jack? '' he asked. 

Phyllis opened her eyes wide. 

^^ I'm s 'prised," she said, solemnly. ^^ I see 
I shall have to tell you all about your name- 
sakes. 

^' Do you see how staunchly Jack stands 
in his pulpit? Nowadays our pulpits are not 
covered over, but they used to be in olden 
times. In England to this day you may find 
these roofed pulpits." 

'* There are some in the old Colonial 
churches of New England even now," said 
Jack. 

" Do see how gracefully this little fellow's 
pulpit-leaf arches!" said PhyUis. "It 



62 JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 

is Light green with veins of dark green. Jack 
is particular, and always preaches from a 
green pulpit.'' 

" But here is a pulpit stained with purple," 
said Jack. 

" Oh, that is Mrs. Jack-in-the-pulpit. That 
is the purple hood which she wears to church 
when her husband preaches." 

" Well," said Jack, " her bonnet looks ex- 
actly like the pulpit." 

" Except the colour," explained Phyllis. 

Jack stood a moment examining the quaint 
green flowers. 

'' I know another name for him," he said. 
" These plants are called ' memory-roots ' 
by some." 

<« Why? " Phyllis questioned. 

" That's just what I asked Will the other 



ABOUT A LITTLE PREACHER 63 

day, and he said if I would bite into the root 
of the plant I'd find out/' 

'^ And you found out^ " 

** I did! " answered Jack, with a wry face. 
" My tongue was almost blistered. It is sore 
yet. I know now why it is called ' memory- 
root.' 

'' Will told me afterward that the Indians 
boiled these roots for food. He said he tried 
it himself once when he was camping and 
playing Indian. The acid seems quite gone 
after cooking, and they are rather tasteless 
and good for nothing. Please, little sister, 
may I go back to my story now? " 

^' You may," said Phyllis, laughing, " if you 
think the sermon is over! " 

'' I came near not understanding the ser- 
mon," said Jack. '' Do you know what he 
said to me? " 



64 JACK . IN - THE - PULPIT 

'' Yes," said PhyUis, " I hope I sliall 
always listen as you did, Jackie." 

I wonder if you know what the children 
meant by the lesson that those Uttle green 
flowers taught Jack. 



JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 

Jack-in-the-pulpit 

Preaches to-day 
Under the green trees 

Just over the way. 
Squirrel and song-sparrow, 

ffigh on their perch, 
Hear the sweet hly-bells 

Ringing to church. 
Come, hear what his reverence 

Rises to say — 
In his low, painted pulpit. 

This cahn Sabbath day. 
Fair is the canopy 

Over him seen, 

65 



66 JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 

Pencilled by Nature's hand, 
Black, brown, and green. 

Green is his surplice, 
Green are his bands; 

In his queer little pulpit. 
The little priest stands. 

In black and gold velvet, 

So gorgeous to see, 
Comes with his bass voice. 

The chorister bee. 
Green fingers are plajdng 

Unseen on wind-lyres. 
Low singing bird voices — 

These are the choirs. 
The violets are deacons, 

I know by the sign 
That the cups which they carry 

Are purple with wine. 



JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 67 

And the columbines bravely 

As sentinels stand, 
On the lookout with all their 

Eed trmnpets in hand. 

Meek-faced anemones, 

Drooping and sad; 
Great yellow violets, 

Smiling out glad; 
Buttercup's faces, 

Beaming and bright; 
Clovers with bonnets — 

Some red and some white; 
Daisies, their white fingers 

Half clasped in prayer; 
Dandelions, proud of 

The gold in their hair; 
Innocents, children, 

Guileless and frail, 



68 JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 

Meek little faces, 

Upturned and pale; 
Wildwood geraniiuns, 

All in their best, 
Languidly beaming, 

In purple gauze dressed. 
AU are assembled 

This sweet Sabbath day, 
To hear what the priest 

In his pulpit will say. 

Look! white Indian pipes 

On the green mosses lie! 
Who has been smoking 

Profanely, so nigh? 
Eebuked by the preacher, 

The mischief is stopped; 
But the sinners in haste 

Have their little pipes dropped. 



JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 69 

Let the wind with the fragrance 

Of fern and of birch 
Blow the smell of the smoking 

Clean out of our church! 

So much for the preacher: 

The sermon comes next — 
Shall we tell how he preached it, 

And where was his text? 
Alas! like too many 

Grown-up folks who play 
At worship in churches 

Man builded to-day — 
We heard not the preacher 

Expound or discuss; 
But we looked at the people, 

And they looked at us. 
We saw all their dresses, 

Their colours and shapes; 



70 JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 

The trim of their bonnets, 

The cut of their capes; 
We heard the wind organ, 

The bee and the bird, 
But of Jack-in-the-pulpit 

We heard not a word. 

— Clara Smith. 



ALL ABOUT THE JACK -IN -THE - 
PULPIT OR INDIAN TURNIP 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to arum family. 

Blossoms through the month of May. 

Found along the edges of deep woods or in 
Lighter spots in the forest. 

Usually two leaves on long stems or petioles 
— these leaves are divided into three leaflets, 
with loose, wavy margins — leaves taller than 
blossom. 

Flower — green, with markings of a deeper 
green or purple — the " Jack " is a spadix 
which bears the pistils and stamens — the 
** pulpit " is an enfolding leaf which curls 
over the flower in a graceful, protecting curve 

71 



72 JACK - IN - THE - PULPIT 

— from this curved leaf the plant receives its 
name, it seeming to resemble those old-fash- 
ioned roofed pulpits. 

The '' pulpit '^ is of a bright green, in some 
plants veined with a darker green, and in 
others stained with purple— the coloui^ is said 
to show the sex of the plant — the females 
wearing the purple. 

The fruit is a close cluster of scarlet berries 
—ripe in June or July. 

Plant derives its name of " Indian turnip " 
from the fact that Indians find the bulb-like 
base edible. 



THE PANSY AND 
FORGET-ME-NOT 



THE PANSY AND 
FORGET-ME-NOT 

IN MAMMA'S ROOM 

Mamma had been ill for a whole week, and 
could not leave her room. At last she was 
able to sit up. 

Outside in the hall there was the stealthy 
tread of two pairs of little feet. There was 
the gentlest of little taps. There was a warn- 
ing ^' Sh." Then mamma cried '' Come in." 

Jack opened the door, and Phyllis entered, 
with her hands behind her. Jack followed, 
with his hands behind him. 

^' Guess, mamma, dear! " cried Phyllis. 
*' Guess what we have for you! " 
An apple? " guessed mamma. 



76 



76 PANSY AND FORGET-ME-NOT 

'' Something sweeter/' said Phyllis. 

'' Candy? '' 

** Something sweeter/' said Phyllis. *' Do 
you give up? " 

" I give up," said mamma. 

The little girl placed a basket of forget-me- 
nots on the broad, flat arm of her mother's 
chair. 

The little boy placed a basket of pansies in 
full bloom on the other arm of the chair. 

" Oh," cried mamma, " how lovely! It's 
like bringing the garden into the room." 

'' Just what we said," Jack cried. ^' We 
saw these baskets of flowers as we came up 
from the square, and we bought them for you. 
You see they are planted and blossoming 
nicely for you. They will be just right for 
your window. Shall we put them there? " 

'' By and bye," said mamma. " I want to 



IN MAMMA'S ROOM 77 

see first if these flowers will talk to me as 
they do to PhyUis/' 

^< Why, of course," said Phyllis. '' I only 
get their secrets by watching." 

'' I know a lovely name for the pansy," said 
manmia. '' My grandmother used to call 
pansies heartsease. I always think of her 
when I look into their bright little faces. 

'' The pansy is a relative of the violet, you 
know. In fact, I think it is a violet grown 
more gorgeous by cultivation." 

'^ Yes," said Phyllis, ^^ it has five petals, 
just as the violet has. The two upper ones are 
larger and longer than the others." 

^^ Just look at the soft, velvety colours, " said 
Jack. '' See how they nod on their green 
stems. Never more than one blossom on a 
stalk, is there? " 

^* No, no," laughed Phyllis, '' And look at 



78 PANSY AND FORGET-ME-NOT 

the heart-shaped leaves. They are thick and 
strong and green.'' 

" I believe I like the forget-me-not best,'^ 
said mamma. " It belongs to an entirely dif- 
ferent family. It is not so gorgeous as the 
pansy, but it blossoms all summer long, just 
as the pansy does, and its blossoms seem to 
look up at one like little blue eyes uplifted. 

'' Look at the delicate blossoms in tiny 
bunches. Do you see how round and flat the 
corolla is? We call it salver shaped. A salver, 
you know, is a flat tray — and that is the 
reason we say the forget-me-not is salver 
shaped. 

'' Its leaves do not grow as pansy leaves 
do. They grow upon the stem with the blos- 
soms, and there are many of them. They al- 
ternate upon the stem, and they are small and 
pointed.'^ 



IN MAMMA'S ROOM 79 

^' Does it grow only in gardens? " Jack 
asked. 

" Oh, no, indeed; in some places it grows 
wild, in low, wet places, or on the banks of 
streams. But I shall be very happy with 
these little blossoms on my window-sill. Will 
you put them there for me now? " 

" Mamma," said Phyllis, '' I found a little 
forget-me-not poem yesterday. Shall I say 
it for you before we go? " 

** Yes, indeed, that would be a very sweet 
way of saying good night." 

So Phyllis placed the baskets in the window, 
and, coming back, stood before her mother and 
repeated these lines: 



n 



When to the flowers so beautiful, 

The Father gave a name, 
Back came a little blue-eyed one, 



80 PANSY AND FORGET-ME-NOT 

All timidly it came. 
And standing at its Father's feet, • 

And gazing in his face, 
It said in low and trembling tones, 

And with a modest grace, 
^ Dear God, the name thou gavest me, 

Alas, I have forgot.' 
The Father kindly looked Him down. 

And said, ^ Forget-me-not.' " 

Mamma's eyes were closed when Phyllis fin- 
ished, and the children tiptoed softly out of 
the room. 



THE FOOLISH PANSY 

A dainty little pansy 

Stood on one toe, 
Stretched up her pretty head, 

And wanted to know 

Why she was tethered fast, 

Just to one spot, 
While zephyrs could wander 

Where she could not. 

'' gentle Queen of Fairies,'* 
I heard her softly say, 

'' Please cut the ties that bind me, 
And bid me fly away. 

81 



82 PANSY AND FORGET-ME-NOT 

'' I know I'm far too pretty- 
So hidden here to lie; 
To look abroad and see the world, 
I'm sure I'd like to try." 

'^ foolish little pansy, 

Your choice j^ou're sure to rue; 
To soar aloft, on restless wing, 
Is not for such as you." 

But the pretty pansy pouted, 
And not a smile was seen, 

Wliile sadly leaned above her 
The gentle Fairy Queen. 

So, weary of her sulking. 
At length she waved her wand; 

And pansy flew away, away, 
She thought to Fairy-land. 



THE FOOLISH PANSY 83 

The zephj^rs changed to breezes, 

Then fast and faster blew, 
And soon beside the river 

The pretty pansy threw. 

Then leaning o'er the water, 
She started back in fright; 

For, in that faithful mirror, 
She saw a fearful sight. 

Her truant ways and temper 
Had seamed her forehead o'er 

With wrinkles and with bruises,— 
Her beauty was no more. 

Too late she saw her error. 
Too late she sighed full sore; 

She fainted there, and perished 
Upon that pebbly shore. 



84 PANSY AISTD FORGET-ME-NOT 

Thus ends my little story; 

For, down beneath the wave, 
This foolish little pansy 

Soon found a lonely grave. 

Shall I not take this lesson, 
And feel content to rest 

Where God in love has placed me, 
Assured his choice is best? 

— Jenny Wallis. 



THE PANSY 

Out in the garden, wee Elsie 

Was gathering flowers for me ; 
** Oh, mamma,'' she cried, " hurry, hurry, 

Here's something I want you to see! " 
I went to the window. Before her 

A velvet-winged butterfly flew. 
And the pansies themselves were no brighter 

Than this beautiful creature, in hue. 

'' Oh, isn't it pretty? " cried Elsie, 
With eager and wondering eyes. 

As she watched it soar lazily upward 
Against the soft blue of the skies. 

" I know what it is, don't you, manmia? " — 

85 



86 PANSY AND FORGET-ME-NOT 

Oh, the wisdom of these little things 
When the sonl of a poet is in them — 
'' It's a pansy — a pansy with wings! '' 

— EbenE. Rexford. 



THE PANSY'S STORY 

A modest floweret bloomed in the glade. So 
shy was she that she crept into the shadow of 
a tall leaf. Then she spread her blossoms. 

Soon there crept out from the shadows of 
the tall leaf an exquisite, delicate perfume. 
Soon there crept mider the tall leaf a little 
singing bird, who spied the purple and gold 
of the floweret's blossoms. When he flew out 
he sang of her sweetness to all the world. 

At last, one day, an angel flew down to earth 
with a mission of love. Now the long white 
wings of the angel swept close to earth. They 
brushed aside the tall leaf. The angel dis- 
covered the blossoms of purple and gold. She 
inhaled the exquisite, delicate perfume. 

87 



88 PANSY AND FORGET-ME-NOT 

'' Ah! '^ cried the angel. '' How lovely you 
are ! Too lovely to dwell alone in the shadows. 
You should be a flower in the gardens of the 
angels. 

'' But wait, I have thought of something 
even more beautiful for you. You shall be the 
angel's blossom, but you shall bloom in the 
land of man. 

" Go, sweet pans}^, bloom in every land. 
Bring to all peojjle sweet thoughts of peace 
and love and faith." 

Then the angel stooped and kissed the 
floweret, and lo, from each little blossom 
looked out a tiny angel face. 

So it happened that the pansy came into our 
gardens to live. ^'\nien you see the tiny faces 
in her blossoms will you remember the angel 
whose kiss was kindness and gentleness and 
love? 



THE STORY OP THE FORGET-ME- 
NOT 

One morning, in the golden days of the early 
world, an angel sat just outside the gates of 
Paradise, and wept. 

'^ Why do you weep? " gently asked one 
who passed that way. " Surely the world is 
lovely, and Paradise is so near! " 

'' Alas! " said the angel, '' I must wait long 
before I may enter Paradise." 

^^ Why," said the other, '^ it seems but a 
step to the gates. Why must you wait? " 

" Look," said the angel, pointing earth- 
ward. The other looked and saw a dainty 
blue-eyed maiden stooping over the grass by 
a brookside. 



90 PANSY AND FORGET-ME-NOT 

'' Do you see those tiny blue flowers which 
she is planting? " whispered the angel. '' They 
are as dainty as she herself. They are blue 
as her own eyes. They have hearts of gold 
as true as her own true heart." 

'' Why, then, do you weep? " asked the 
other. 

'* Ah," said the angel, '^ I love the gentle 
maiden, and with her I would have entered 
Paradise. But, lo, when we came to the very 
gates we were not allowed to enter/' 

^* Tell me more," said the other. 

** A task was given this earth maiden," said 
the angel. '' In every corner of the world 
must she plant this tiny blue flower. I may 
not enter the gates of Paradise without her. 
Thus it is that I sit outside and weep." 

^^ Nay, nay," said the other, ** weep not. 
There is a better way than that." 



STORY OF THE FORGET - ME - NOT 91 

Then he whispered in the angel's ear. 

And the angel flew to the earth where the 
maiden stooped over her dainty blue flowers. 
He came to assist her in her task. 

Hand in hand the angel and the beautiful 
maiden wandered over the land. In every cor- 
ner of the earth they planted the blue forget- 
me-nots. 

Then one day, when the task was done, they 
sat together beside the stream and wove 
wreaths of forget-me-nots. 

And with garlands of their own flowers 
about them, the angel gathered the beautiful 
maiden in his arms and carried her with him 
to the gates of Paradise. 

The gates swung wide at their coming, and 
ever after the angel and the maiden whom he 
loved wandered mid fields of happiness in the 
land of Paradise. 



ALL ABOUT THE PANSY OR 
HEARTSEASE 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to violet family. 

Blossoms throughout smnmer into late fall. 

Stem — slender — nodding — single flower 
on stalk — low. 

Leaves grow in cluster about the root and 
on stem — sometimes cut — often heart- 
shaped. 

Five petals — five sepals — five stamens — 
one pistil — one-celled pod — lower petal has 
a little spur — beautifully coloured in shades 
and mixtures of yellow, violet, and purple. 



92 



ALL ABOUT THE FORGET-ME-NOT 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to borage family. 

Blossoms throughout the summer. 

Found along the banks of streams and in 
low, marshy places. 

Stems — slender, branching, somewhat 
rough when rubbed upward. 

Flowers — light blue, small, on a one-sided 
raceme, coiled up at the tip and unfolding as 
the flowers open — calyx five-lobed — corolla 
is round and flat, or salver shaped — stamens 
five — there is a white species of the flower. 

Leaves — small and pointed — broader at 
the base — alternate. 



THE WILD ROSE 



THE WILD ROSE 

BANKS OF ROSES 

On the last day of June, Phyllis and her best 
doll went for a walk. It was a delightful day 
to walk. The sunshine was not too hot, nor 
the wind too strong. 

Phyllis and her doll wandered a long way. 
At last they found themselves on a country 
road. On one side of the road was a ditch. 
Beyond the ditch was a steep, high bank. 

When Phyllis looked across to the high bank 
she gave a cry of delight. I am shocked to 
say that she dropped her very best doll in the 

97 



98 THE WILD ROSE 

grass, and forgot all about her for at least 
ten minutes! 

Do you wonder why? That steep bank was 
just thick with rose-bushes. They were in 
full bloom, and looked so fresh and pink and 
sweet sitting on their rustling beds of green 
leaves! Is it any wonder that Phyllis wished 
to get to them as soon as possible"? 

She gave a wild leap across the ditch, and 
landed right in the midst of the wild roses. 

'' Oh! " cried Phyllis, the next instant. 
^' Oh, you have hurt me! You are not so 
lovely, after all! '' 

The pinkest pink rose of them all tossed her 
head jauntily. 

^^ We are onl}^ protecting ourselves," she 
said. ^' Mother Nature told us to use our 
thorns when we were in danger.'' 

Phyllis looked down, a little ashamed. At 




"\Y /hen she re- 

^^ turned to the 
roses, Phyllis came 
more gently " 



BANKS OF ROSES 99 

her feet was a broken stem and a cruslied 
rose. 

" I didn't think I should jvmip so hard," she 
said. '' And I didn't know your thorns were 
so sharp. I really did not intend to harm you. 

'' I will set the broken rose in the water of 
the ditch. Perhaps it will live for a little time 
there! " 

When she returned to the roses, Phyllis 
came more genth" than she did the first time. 
The pinkest pink rose nodded in a more 
friendly fashion. 

'^ How long have you been here? " Phyllis 
asked, still feeling a little hurt by her un- 
friendly reception. 

'^ Oh, we bloom here year after year," said 
the pink rose. '^ This roadside bank is our 
home. We have never been away from it. 

'^ The rose-bush and the thorns are here the 



100 THE WILD ROSE 

whole year. But the flowers and leaves do not 
last so long. 

'' The tender green leaves came out early 
in the summer. My sister blossoms shook out 
their pink skirts a day or two ago. Yester- 
day I was just a bud with a pink, pink tip. 
The day before that I was a green bud with 
no pink tip.'' 

'' Your pink dress is very beautiful," Phyl- 
lis said. 

^' Yes, but it fades in the sun, and it does 
not last long. Look at my sister on your right. 
Her dress is almost white. A day or two ago 
it was as deep a pink as my own. 

^^ Look at my sister on your left. Her dress 
is coming to pieces. One petal has already 
fallen. 

'' Look at this little baby bud beside me. 
Her pink skirts are all rolled up inside her 



BANKS OF ROSES 101 

green cloak. To-morrow she will slip out of 
the coat and come out to play with the wind 
and the smishine.'^ 

The wild rose touched the baby bud play- 
fully. Then she rose again on her stem. 

" But we do not stop growing just because 
our dresses become old and fall to pieces. Do 
you see the green cup below my petals, and 
the green ball which will some day be twice 
as large and quite as lovely as my pink dress 
now is? " 

** Oh," said Phyllis, '^ that is your seed- 
cup." 

^^ When autumn comes the leaves will turn 
brown and fall off," said the pink rose. '' By 
that time this green ball will be filled with 
seeds, and it too will have changed colour. 

^' Every rose-bush by the roadside will bear 
bunches of crimson berries instead of pink- 



102 THE WILD ROSE 

skirted roses. If you come by in the autumn 
and see us, PhyUis, I should be glad to have 
you pick me and carry me to your home. I 
have never in the world been away from this 
bank." 

" Indeed/^ said Phyllis, '' 1 will be sure to 
remember. I will remember, too, not to jump 
into your home so rudely that you take me for 
a burglar." 

Then Phyllis again jumped across the ditch 
and gathered up her neglected doll. Together 
they walked home without a single pink rose 
in her hands, but with a good number of 
scratches from the roses' thorny stems. 



TWO LITTLE ROSES 

One merry siumiier day 
T^Yo roses were at play; 
All at once they took a notion 
They would like to run away! 

Queer little roses, 

Funny little roses, 
To like to run away! 

They stole along my fence; 
They clambered up my wall; 
They climbed into my window 
To make a morning call! 

Queer little roses, 

Funny little roses, 
To make a morning call ! 

— Julia P. Ballard. 

103 



THE MOSS ROSE 

Once a little pink wild rose bloomed by the 
wayside. To all who passed her way she threw 
out a delicate perfume and nodded in kindly 
welcome. 

The larks and the humming-birds all loved 
the pink wild rose. The baby grasses and the 
violets snuggled up at her feet in safety. To 
all she was kind and sweet and helpful. 

One day Mother Nature passed that way. 
She saw the gentle wild rose sending out her 
helpful cheer to all. Mother Nature was 
pleased. 

She stopped a moment on her way to speak 
to the simple flower. She praised the wild 



THE MOSS ROSE 105 

rose for her sweetness and her beauty and her 
kindness. At last she promised her her choice 
of all the beautiful things that were in the 
store of Nature. 

The pink wild rose blushed quite scarlet at 
the praise. For a moment she stopped to 
think. 

'' I should like," said the wild rose, blush- 
ing more and more, '' I should like to have 
a cloak from the most beautiful thing you can 
think of.'' 

Mother Nature looked down at her feet. 
She stooped. She arose and threw about the 
blushing pink rose a mantle of the softest, 
greenest, most beautiful moss. 

Mother Nature passed on her way. 

The sweet rose by the roadside drew her 
mantle of moss closely about her and allowed 
it to trail down the stem. She was very happy. 



J 



106 



THE WILD ROSE 



She was never again to be called the simple 
wild rose, but in her heart she knew that her 
beautiful mossy mantle would only help her in 
spreading sweetness and kindness and beauty 
and the perfume of happiness through Mother 
Nature's world. 



I 



^ 



HOW THE SWEETBRIER BECAME 
PINK 

Eve was young, and she walked in the Gar- 
den of Eden. Countless as the stars were the 
nodding heads of the flowers of her garden. 
Sweeter than the perfume of a hundred sum- 
mer-times was the fragrance of her blossoms. 

Eve looked again and again, and was never 
weary. She wandered for many happy hours 
in her Garden of Eden. 

One morning, as she again walked forth, she 
spied a rose of purest white. It was the sweet- 
brier, and when Eve approached, delighted 
with the blossom, the whole plant sent out 

107 



108 THE WILD ROSE 

from every leaf a sweet, delicate perfume. 
The pure white rose lifted its cup eagerly. 

'' Ah/' said Eve to the white sweetbrier 
rose, " you are beautiful. You are exquisitely 
sweet! " 

She drew the blossom down to her and 
kissed its white petals with her sweet red lips. 

So when the sweetbrier rose swung back 
to its place its petals were pale pink. They 
had drunk the colour from Eve's red lips. 



THE TRANSPLANTED FLOWER 

'' Every time that a good child dies, one of 
God's angels comes down to earth and takes 
the dead child in his arms, then spreads his 
large white wings and flies over all the spots 
which the child best loved and plucks a whole 
handful of flowers, which he carries up to the 
Almighty, that they may bloom in still greater 
loveliness in heaven than they did upon earth; 
and the Almighty presses all such flowers 
upon His heart, but He gives a kiss to the one 
He prefers, and then the flower becomes en- 
dowed with a voice, and can join the choir of 
the blessed." 

These words were spoken by one of God's 
angels, as he carried up a dead child to heaven, 

109 



110 THE WILD ROSE 

and the child heard hini as in a dream; and 
they passed over the spots in his home where 
the little one had played, and they passed 
through gardens filled with beautiful flowers. 

'' Which shall we take with us and trans- 
plant into the kingdom of heaven? " asked the 
angel. 

There stood a slender, lovely rose-bush, only 
some wicked hand had broken the stem, so 
that all its sprigs, loaded with half-open buds, 
were withering around. 

'' Poor rose-bush! '' said the child; ** let's 
take it, in order that it may be able to bloom 
above, in God's kingdom." 

And the angel took it and kissed the child 
for its kind intention, and the little one half- 
opened its eyes. They plucked some of the 
gay, ornamental flowers, but took likcTsdse the 
despised buttercup and the wild pansy. 



THE TRANSPLANTED FLOWER 111 

'" Now we have plenty of flowers," said the 
cliild, and the angel nodded assent; but he 
did not yet fly upward to God. It was 
night, and all was quiet; they remained in the 
large town, and hovered over one of the nar- 
row streets, where lay heaps of straw, ashes, 
and sweepings. There lay fragments of plates; 
pieces of plaster of Paris, rags, and old hats, 
and all sorts of things that had become shabby. 

And amidst this heap the angel pointed 
to the broken fragments of a flower-pot, 
and to a lump of mould that had fallen out 
of it, and was kept together by the roots of 
a large, withered field-flower, which, being 
worthless, had been flung into the street. 

*^ We will take it with us," said the angel, 
'' and I will tell you why as we fly along." 

And as they flew, the angel related as fol- 
lows: 



112 THE WILD ROSE 

*' In yon narrow street, a poor, sickly boy 
lived in a lonely cellar. He had been bed- 
ridden from his childhood. In his best days, 
he could just walk on crutches up and down 
the room a couple of times, but that was all. 
During some days in smnmer the sim just 
shone for about half an hour on the floor of 
the cellar, and when the poor boy sat and 
warmed himself in its beams, and he saw the 
red blood through his delicate fingers, that he 
held before his face, then he considered that 
he had been abroad that day. All he knew of 
the forest and its beautiful spring verdure 
was from the first green sprig of beech that his 
neighbour's son used to bring him, and he 
would hold it over his head, and dream that 
he was under the beech-trees, amid the sim- 
shine and the carol of birds. 

** One spring day the neighbour's boy 



THE TRANSPLANTED FLOWER 113 

brought hini some field-flowers besides, and 
among them there happened to be one that still 
retained its root, and which he therefore care- 
fully planted in a flower-pot and placed in the 
window near his bed. The flower was planted 
by a lucky hand; it throve and put forth new 
shoots, and blossomed every year. It became 
the rarest flower garden for the sick boy, and 
his only little treasure here on earth; he 
watered it, and cherished it, and took care it 
should profit by every sunbeam, from the first 
to the last, that filtered through that lonely 
window, and the flower became interwoven 
in his very dreams; for it was for him it 
bloomed; for him it spread its fragrance and 
delighted the eye, and it was to the flower he 
turned in the last gasp of death, when the Lord 
called him. He has now been a year with his 
heavenly Father, and for a year did the flower 



114 THE WILD ROSE 

stand forgotten in the window, till it withered. 
It was therefore cast out among the sweepings 
in the street on the day of moving; and this 
is the flow^er, the poor faded flower, which we 
have added to our nosegay, because this flower 
gave more joy than the rarest flower in the 
garden of a queen." 

'' And how do you know all this? '^ asked 
the child, as the angel carried him up to 
heaven. 

'^ I know it," said the angel, '' because I 
m^^self was the little sick boy who walked on 
crutches; I know my own flower." 

And the child opened his eyes wide, and 
looked full in the angel's serenely beautiful 
face. At the same moment they reached 
the kingdom of heaven, w^here all was joy and 
blessedness. 

And God pressed the child to His hearty 



THE TRANSPLANTED FLOWER 115 

when he obtained wings like the other angel 
and flew hand-in-hand with him; and God 
pressed all the flowers to His heart, but kissed 
the poor withered field-flower, which then be- 
came endowed with a voice. It joined the 
chorus of the angels that surrounded the 
Ahnighty, where all were equally happy. 

And they all sang, great and little, the good, 
blessed child, and the poor field-flower that 
lay withered and cast away among the sweep- 
ings under the rubbish of a moving day, in 
the narrow, dingy street. 

— Hans Andersen. 



A CHRISTMAS ROSE 

The old black pine on the mountainside cast 
a long dark shadow across the thin covering 
of snow which covered the whole mountain 
and even the valley below. 

The cold winds blew fiercely and the old 
black pine waved his shaggy arms fitfully and 
laughed at the soft snowflakes that nestled 
themselves fearlessly among his long needles. 

'^ Ho! Ho! '' laughed the old black pine. 
'' Ho! Ho! winter has come, but I do not 
fear him. The flowers have gone, but I shall 
brave the winter storms. I shall laugh at 
them as I have done for countless seasons. '^ 

Then a fiercer blast of wind struck the pine- 

116 



A CHRISTMAS EOSE 117 

tree and bent his tall head so low that he saw 
a little plant growing at his very feet. It was 
a hardy little mountain rose, and it had two 
buds already half-open. The pine-tree also 
heard a weary Little sigh. 

^' Why do you sigh and fret? " asked the 
pine-tree, his shaggy arms spread to protect 
the plant. 

'* Alas! " said the rose-plant, '^ the other 
plants are long since asleep. I wish I might 
bloom when the others do. My buds are beau- 
tiful, but who is there to admire them? 

** What fun it would be to blossom with the 
blue-eyed gentian or the lovely goldenrod. 
They would have admired my blossoms. But 
now no one cares. I see no use in blooming 
at aU. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! " 

** Ho! Ho! " laughed the old black pine. 
'^ Ho! Ho! What nonsense you talk, little 



118 THE WILD ROSE 

friend. The snowflakes and I will admire you. 
Do not be a grumbler. 

** Do you not remember that you are a little 
Christmas rose? You are named for the 
Christ Child. You should be more happy and 
contented than other plants. 

'' Be brave, little rose. The snow is grow- 
ing deeper about you. Push up and keep your 
head above the drifts. Care well for your 
precious buds, that they may open into perfect 
blossoms. 

*^ Keep up heart, little rose. You do not 
yet know for w^hat purpose you were left to 
bloom so late. But be sure of this: we w^ere 
all made for some wise purpose. When the 
time comes, we shall know." 

Then the shaggy pine fingers of the old 
tree touched the rose with a gentle caress as 
he lifted his tall head once more to the winds. 



A CHKISTMA8 ROSE 119 

He did not speak again, but the little rose, 
nestling at his feet, thought long of the old 
pine's wise advice. 

*' Perhaps he is right," she murmured to 
herself. " Perhaps I had better do as he said. 
All the other flowers are dead. If I was made 
for a wise purpose I shall not long be forgot- 
ten." 

So the mountain rose lifted her leaves 
bravely. She sighed no longer. She took 
good care of her beautiful buds, and watched 
them as day by day they grew. 

It was the day before Christmas when the 
buds opened lovely and white and perfect. 
The old pine saw them, and bowed his head 
to admire the blossoms. He shook aU over as 
he laughed down on the blossoms peeping up 
through the snow. 

^^Ho! Ho!" laughed the dark old pine. 



120 THE WILD ROSE 



ii 



Who is unhappy now? " and the blossoms 
smiled back contentedly. 

That day two little children wandered hand 
in hand up the mountainside. Their father 
was the wood-cutter who lived in the tiny hut 
below. 

Their mother was the pale, sick woman who 
lay in the tiny hut and answered her children 
by neither look nor word. 

By their mother's bed sat the father, speech- 
less with grief. About the room moved the 
kind neighbour with tears in her eyes. 

*' Our mother is very ill,'' whispered the 
children. The kind woman shook her head 
sadly. 

" I fear," she said, " that your mother will 
not live till sunset." 

Then, sobbing softly, the two little children 
stole out of the door. Hand in hand they 



A CHRISTMAS ROSE 121 

walked on, scarce knowing where they went. 
At last they came to the foot of the black old 
pine. 

** Come,'' said the boy. '^ The old pine does 
not care for our grief. Let us go to the valley. 
There we will find people with kind hearts. 
They will care for us." 

The girl opened her soft, sad eyes and stared 
at the boy. 

'^ Poor boy! " she said. " Your grief has 
made you forget. There is always the Christ 
Child who cares. To-morrow is His birthday." 

Then she spied the Christmas roses blossom- 
ing so perfectly in the snow. 

*^ Let us take these roses," said the children, 
'^ and go to the church. We will pray that our 
mother may yet live." 

The old, white-haired pastor met the chil- 
dren at the church door. Together they en- 



122 THE WILD ROSE 

tered and prayed. The roses, nodding in the 
little girPs hand, seemed now to understand 
why they had bloomed so late. 

That night the mother's fever turned. The 
mother began to grow better. There was joy 
in the little hut. 



ALL ABOUT THE WILD ROSE 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to rose family. 

Blossoms in early summer. . 

Foimd along streams and roadsides. 

Is a low bush— stems woody— stems and 
branches generally covered with frail prickles. 

Leaves — smooth, dark green, from five 
to seven leaflets, coarsely toothed— alternate. 

Blossoms single— calyx is urn-shaped, nar- 
rowing at the top — to its lining are fastened 
pistils and stamens — corolla consists of five 
(generally) broad petals, varying in colour 
from white to deep rose pink— buds are deep 
pink — fruit crimson in the autumn. 

123 



THE BUTTERCUP 



THE BUTTERCUP 

IN THE PASTURE 

^^ Don't tread on me," cried a flower voice 
at Phyllis 's feet. 

'' Who are you? " asked the little girl. 

^* I belong to the crowfoot family," said a 
buttercup, holding her head up very proudly. 
'' Some folks call us the gold of the meadow." 

'' Some folks call you weeds," said Phyllis. 
^' My brother Jack says that no one but little 
girls care for buttercups. He says that even 
the cows won't eat you." 

^^ No, indeed," said the buttercup. ** I 
shouldn't like to be eaten by cows. I am glad 

127 



128 THE BUTTERCUP 

of the bitter acid in my stem. It protects me. 
I have no doubt it has saved my head many 
a time." 

'' You stand very proudly upon your hairy 
stem. And so you may stand, for I shall not 
touch you. If I did, the juice from your stems 
would probably make my hands smart and 
itch and burn. 

*^ But you are pretty," Phyllis went on. 
*^ How satiny your five yeUow petals are, and 
how erect your stem is! I should judge it to be 
about three feet high." 

The buttercup raised her head a little 
higher. 

*' Did you grow from a seed? " Phyllis 
asked. 

*' No, from a bulb, but some buttercups grow 
from seeds, I think. I am the early buttercup. 
Later in the season will come the fall butter- 



IN THE PASTURE 129 

cup. It will be very much like me, save that 
it will not be so tall nor so large as I. I am 
sorry that you do not like me as well as you 
do the wild rose. I really have not treated 
you as badly as she.'' 

'^ Well,'' Phyllis said, '' you do seem to be 
very friendly, and you seem to grow on cheer- 
ily without the least encouragement." 

'' Yes, it's a way we weeds have of doing," 
said the buttercup, serenely. 

*' Nothing any one can say or do seems to 
make the least difference to you. I have seen 
old Boss pass you by with just a single sniff 
many a time." 

^' That, too, is because I'm a weed. I'm a 
sort of plant tramp. I can live almost any- 
where. I do not need encouragement nor 
praise. I am not useful, and yet I am happy." 

** I do think you are pretty," Phyllis 



130 THE BUTTERCUP 

said. '' But I am on my way to the pond, 
where Jack has been buildmg a raft. He has 
promised me a ride.'' 

'' Good-bye," said the buttercup. '' When 
you have time, look up the story of how butter- 
cups happened to grow in the world." 



THE GOLD OF THE MEADOW 

Do you believe there is a bag of gold hidden 
away at the end of the rainbow? Do you 
think if you could only get there before the 
rainbow fades you would surely find the gold? 

Well, don't you ever run very far to find the 
end of the rainbow. Shall I tell you why? 

Well, then, the bag of gold is no longer there. 
It is much nearer home, and I can tell you 
the exact spot to find it! Go down in the 
meadow where the buttercups grow, and there 
you will find the gold which was once hidden 
at the end of the rainbow. 

Long ago, just as you have so often heard, 
the bag of gold lay at the farther end of the 

131 



132 THE BUTTERCUP 

rainbow. But, long ago, somebody found it. 
Have you never heard about it^ 

Many, many people looked for the gold, and 
they failed to find it. At last they came to 
say that no one could ever get it. 

It seems almost sad, then, to find out that 
at last the bag was certainly found by a 
miserly old man. 

This old man was selfish. He was cross. 
He was unpleasant, and likewise unhappy. 

When he found the gold, he wished no one 
to know of it. He feared that some one might 
need some of his precious gold. So he decided 
to hide his wealth in the earth. 

So one dark night, when black clouds scur- 
ried across the sky and not a star was in sight, 
the old miser went to bury his gold. He slung 
the big bag over his shoulder and crept along 
the dark meadow where the grass was thick 



THE OOLD OF THE MEADOW 133 

and tall. It was, in fact, the self-same meadow 
in which the fairies danced, but this the old 
man did not know. 

Now the fairies are always good and wise 
and loving. They do not like selfishness, and 
they love to do kindnesses for others. But 
fairies are also sometimes full of mischief. 
Listen, and I will tell you what one fairy 
did! 

As the old man crept slyly along, a fairy 
spied him. With a laugh she ripped a hole in 
the bag with a sharp grass blade. Of this the 
old man knew nothing. 

One by one the gold pieces slipped down 
among the grasses. Little by little the bag 
grew lighter, but the old man did not notice, 
so eager was he to reach the wood before any 
needy one saw him. 

His bag was empty before he reached the 



134 THE BUTTERCUP 

wood, but all amid the grasses shone the gold 
which he had dropped. 

^' Let us put it on stems, that all may 
see,'' said the fairies. " Let the fairy gold 
be free alike to rich and poor! " 

So all night long the fairies worked. When 
morning came the sim shone down on the 
meadow which was bright with the gold, each 
piece set on a sturdy stem of its own. 

'' You may call them buttercups, if you 
wish," laughed the mischievous fairy, " but 
they are fairy gold just the same! " 



ALL ABOUT THE BUTTERCUP 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to crowfoot family. 

A summer blossom— May to July. 

Conmioii in meadow and pasture lands. 

Leaves from root— with three divisions- 
cleft and notched or toothed. 

Stem erect— about a foot in height— hairy. 

Early Buttercup.— Bright, clear yellow- 
sepals turn back— five in number— petals five, 
six, or seven— round and quite large— bulb at 
bottom of stem. 

Later Buttercup.— Taller than early butter- 
cup (from two to three feet)— petals not so 
large nor flower so showy as earlier flower. 

136 



THE IRIS 



THE IRIS 

WITH WET FEET 

Phyllis trudged on to the pond without 
gathering a single buttercup. From the hill- 
top she saw Jack in the middle of the pond. 
In his hand was a long pole, and under his 
feet the tottering raft. 

" Come along! '' Jack shouted, pushing the 
raft toward the bank. 

'' Are you quite sure it is safe? " Phyllis 
asked, looking doubtfully at the bobbing raft. 

^^ To be sure! " Jack replied, in a tone which 
made Phyllis sure he thought her afraid. 

Haven't I been paddling about here the 



(< 



140 THE IRIS 

whole morning? I'm not the least bit wet. 
Come on! " 

So Phyllis clambered on with her brother's 
assistance. She sat huddled in a little heap 
in the centre of the raft. Jack drove his pole 
against the bank and pushed off. 

" You needn't be scared," he said, half- 
scornfuUy, '' the water isn't deep enough to 
hurt you any. If our ship should sink, it 
would be in only two feet of water." 

^' 1 could get very wet in only two feet of 
water," began Phyllis, but a sudden lurch of 
the raft interrupted her. 

Jack scarcely looked at her. Phyllis knew 
that he thought her very silly. By and bye 
she grew used to the raft, and was no longer 
afraid. She even moved a little and laughed 
when Jack splashed in the water with the 
pole. 




Sonie purplish blue 
flowers growing 
near the bank" 



WITH WET FEET 141 

'' Isn't this joUy? " asked Jack, when they 
were almost across the pond. 

" It is, indeed,'' said Phyllis. " 1 think I 
shall stay with you the whole morning." 

Then her bright eyes caught sight of some 
purplish blue flowers growing near the bank. 

" Oh, brother, push up and get them for 
me! " she cried. 

Jack gave a mighty push and sent the raft 
in among the reeds and rushes. But, alas, the 
raft struck a root, and with the jar Phyllis 
slipped ofl into the water. By good fortune 
she landed on her feet. There the little girl 
stood right beside the blue flowers which she 
had wished for. 

Phyllis began to laugh. So did Jack. 

'' Well," said he, " why didn't you wait? I 
didn't know you were in such a hurry. Why 
don't you pick them now? " 



142 THE IRIS 

So PhylUs broke off several stalks and some 
of the long sword-shaped leaves. She could 
feel the water between her toes. 

^' I think my feet are very wet/' she said. 
^* My stockings are all ' squashy.' " 

Then Jack remembered what a cough Phyl- 
lis had in the winter. She had been obliged to 
stay in her room and drink flaxseed tea. Jack 
had reaUy been sorry as well as lonely. 

*^ Come/' he cried, " get back on the raft, 
and I will get you ashore. I don't want you to 
be ill again." 

In a few moments he reached the sunny 
bank. 

^' But I don't want to go home," said Phyl- 
lis, wriggling her wet toes. 

^' Perhaps you could dry your shoes and 
stockings here in the sunshine," said Jack. 
'' It is very warm." 



WITH WET FEET 143 

So the shoes and stockings were laid in the 
sunshine to dry, and Phyllis sat on the bank 
with her blue flowers. Jack pushed off 
again. 

'' You are beautiful," said Phyllis to the 
flowers. " May I ask your name"?" 

'' Do you not know the iris? " asked one 
flower. " We have grown in your pond for 
years and years. We are called by several 
names. One of these names is blue flag. 

<< The French people call us fleur-de-lis. 
They chose us as their national flower. It is 
still the emblem of France." 

*^ Your colours are very lovely," Phyllis 
said. " Your petals appear blue, but through 
them run tiny veins of purple and white." 

'' Not every iris blossom is of this purplish 
blue shade," said the blossom. '' Some are 
creamy yellow. Some are a lovely brown. But 



144 THE IRIS 

we all have six petals, three of which turn 
back and reveal the yellow crest. The three 
upper petals stand erect and arch over the 
three stamens. 

'' The best friend I have is the bee," the 
iris went on. ^* If it were not for his help 
I could never bear seeds. But the bee is 
known to love my colours. Besides, he knows 
of the nectar I have stored up in my heart for 
him. 

*' So Mr. Bee often alights on one of my 
large recurved petals. Then he creeps down 
into my heart for the nectar. As he does so, 
I shake my pollen on his head and ask him to 
bear it to another iris across the way. 

*' This he does gladly. On the very next 
flower that he enters he drops the pollen in the 
place where it will fertilize, and cause the 
seeds to grow." 



WITH WET FEET 145 

** How did you get the name of Iris? '' Phyl- 
lis asked. 

** Oh, Iris, you know, was the rainbow mes- 
senger. When she came to the earth with a 
message, she first threw her rainbow bridge 
across the sky and allowed one end to touch 
the earth. You know the lovely rainbow col- 
ours. Do you not see how many rainbow col- 
ours there are in my dress? That is how I 
came to have the name of Iris." 

Phyllis reached over and felt of her stock- 
ings. They were quite dry and warm. 

^' I do not believe I have taken cold," she 
said. 

*' It is very queer to think that it will hurt 
you to get your feet wet," said the iris. 
<< Why, I have stood in the water all my life. 
I grew tall and strong and beautiful, and I've 
always had wet feet. Even now I begin to feel 



146 THE IRIS 

quite faint and wish I might stand again in 
some cool water/' 

" And so you shall/' laughed Phyllis. " Lit- 
tle girls and little blue flags are very different 
children." And she set the blossoms down 
in a shallow pool among the reeds until she 
should be ready to go home. Then once again 
she tried the raft. Jack was more careful this 
time, and Phyllis did not try again to stand 
like the iris with her feet in the water. 



THE RAINBOW MESSENGER 

It was the festival day of the flowers. 
Every beauty from Flower Land flaunted her 
fair blossom in the clear sunshine. Every 
plain but useful plant sat demurely and re- 
flected on her own importance. Every com- 
mon, useless plant stood in honest wide-eyed 
admiration of the others. 

All were dressed in their very best. It was 
indeed a scene of wondrous beauty. It seemed 
a difficult thing for the judges to choose which 
was fairest. 

At the last moment there came breathlessly 
into their midst a new flower. Her robe was 
deep blue like the sky of twilight. It was as 



148 THE IRIS 

delicately shaded as the clouds of sunset. It 
was trimmed with fluffy golden bands. It was 
jewelled with dewdrops from the pond. 

'' Who is this beautiful stranger? '' asked 
the judges in a breath, and the beauties from 
Flower Land stared in surprise, knowing that 
the newcomer was more beautiful than they. 

But no one answered the question of the 
judges. No one knew the fair stranger in robes 
of blue. She did not speak for herself. 

For a moment there was silence at the festi- 
val of the flowers. Then one of those wide- 
eyed, useless ones whispered in the judge's 
ear: 

'^ Do you not see the rainbow colours of her 
robe? '' she asked. '^ Do you not see the rain- 
drops sparkling in the sunshine? Surely it 
is Iris, the rainbow messenger. Look again 
at her gown! " 



THE RAINBOW MESSENGER 149 

'^ Iris! Iris! " whispered the flowers to- 
gether. '^ Let us call her Iris the Beauti- 
ful! '' 

So it was that every judge, every beauty 
from Flower Land, every plain but useful 
plant, and every common, useless plant, chose 
Iris for their queen of beauty. 



ALL ABOUT THE IRIS, OR BLUE FLAG 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to iris family. 

Blossoms in May and Jmie. 

Fonnd in wet meadows and boggy places. 

Stem stout and jointed— angled on one side 
— one stem may bear several flowers— from 
one to three and a half feet high. 

Leaves stiff, flat, sword-shaped, folded to- 
gether for sometimes half their length, sheath- 
like fastening to stem. 

Flowers a little taller than leaves— blossoms 
are violet-blue with veinings of purple, yel- 
low, white, and green— corolla six cleft— the 
three outer divisions are large and curved 

160 



ALL ABOUT THE IRIS 151 

back— the three inner divisions are smaller 
and stand erect. 

Seed capsule one and one-half inches long, 
then lobed. 



THE POPPY 



THE POPPY 

IN SOAELET BREST 

The poppies were dancing in their garden 
home. The morning breezes were their part- 
ners. 

They swmig and they curtsied. They 
scraped and they bowed. They spread their 
scarlet skirts and bent so low that their slen- 
der stems seemed in danger of breaking. 

Phyllis, as she came down the walk, caught 
the flutter of the gay skirts of the poppies, and 
drew nearer to watch the merry dance. 

At last the breezes passed, as those little 
whirling breezes have a way of doing. They 

156 



156 THE POPPY 

left the poppies quite breathless and quiet. 
One poppy's neck was broken in the last wild 
whirl, and there she stood with drooping 
head. 

In the very centre of the poppy bed stood a 
tall, stiff poppy with a fluffy white head. She 
was very lovely, but, being quite old, was too 
stiff to dance as the yoimger ones did. 

'' Those whirlwind breezes are wild things," 
said the old white poppy. " See, they 
snatched a handful of my white hair and threw 
it on the ground. They are very rude." 

^' Did it hurt? " asked a bud with drooping 
head. 

^^ Why, of course it didn't hurt," said a 
newly opened blossom, who held her head erect 
upon her hairy stem. And the old white poppy 
shook her head stiffly. 

'' What a merry family you are," said Phyl- 



IN SCARLET BREST 157 

lis. ^^ You have been blossoming all summer 
long. Do you like our garden'? '^ 

'' We double poppies never grow except in 
gardens," said the old white poppy. '' But 
some of these single poppies escape from the 
garden where they really belong, and grow 
wild in the fields. They shake out their four 
petals there, and pretend that the fields are 
their real homes. 

'' They do not always wear scarlet skirts 
either. Some poppies are white and some are 
purplish-blue. Other poppies wear bright 
yellow dresses. 

'' But wherever poppies grow they are play- 
fellows with the breezes and the sunshine. 
You may always see them dancing and shak- 
ing their full skirts. 

'' Over in India great fields of poppies are 
raised. From the juice a kind of medicine is 



158 ' THE POPPY 

made. So you see, while here in your garden 
we are only ornamental, yet there are times 
when even poppies can be useful." 

'' My mother says that we are of use always 
if we are cheerful and happy and sunshiny," 
said Phyllis, running on down the walk. 



THE CORN-FLOWER AND THE 
POPPY 

Long ago there was a king who had one 
beautiful daughter. To her was given whatso- 
ever she desired. Men servants and maid 
servants waited to do her bidding. 

So it chanced that the little Princess became 
a spoiled and wilful child. She never thought 
of the wishes of others. She always followed 
her own desires. 

The little Princess was vain^ and admired 
her own beauty. She always wore gowns of 
beautiful red silk. They were as soft and as 
gaily coloured as the petals of the gorgeous 
garden poppies. 



160 THE POPPY 

Every morning the gentle, careful little 
maid combed the Princess's long dark hair 
with a golden comb. 

At noontime she carried to the Princess a 
golden plate loaded with the finest ripe fruit. 
She offered her foaming, creamy milk in a 
cup of gold. 

At eveningtide the maid robed the Princess 
in a nightgown of silk, and tucked her snugly 
in the softest and downiest of silken beds. 

When the Princess slept, the little maid 
drew the silken curtains of the bed, and her- 
self slept on a couch close by, that she might 
waken at the Princess's least movement. 

The maid was always gentle, patient, and 
obedient, and her eyes were as true and blue 
as the petals of the corn-flower, and her hair 
as golden as the stalks of the ripe wheat in 
the field. 



CORN-FLOWER AND POPPY 161 

One day the Princess sat on the wide 
veranda on the shady side of the palace. The 
little maid fanned her with a fan of sweet- 
scented grasses. Afar in the field the reapers 
were at work in the harvest. 

** Come/' said the Princess. '' Bring my 
parasol of bright red silk, and we will go to 
the fields and watch the harvesters." 

The little maid bowed so low that you could 
not see the blue of her eyes, but only the gold 
of her hair and the blue of her gown. She 
hastened to bring the red silk parasol, and 
together they found their way to the harvest 
field. 

Now the reapers loved their king and re- 
spected him. For his sake they loved the 
wilful little Princess. When the Princess and 
her maid reached the field the workmen 
stopped their work for a moment and bowed 



162 THE POPPY 

respectfully before the two little girls. The 
Princess tossed her dark head saucily, and 
twirled her red silk parasol impatiently. She 
spoke scornfully to the honest workmen, and 
bade them go about their work. 

But the little maid smiled kindly upon the 
honest workmen. So though it was to the 
Princess that the workmen bowed, it was into 
the blue eyes of the little maid that they 
looked. It was the flutter of her simple blue 
gown which they caught as they looked back 
across the fields. 

Now the Princess was weary from her long 
walk across the fields. She commanded the 
maid to find her a place in which to rest. The 
little maid found a soft place on the shady 
side of a shock of golden wheat, and brought 
cool water from a stream close by. 

As she sat there the Princess looked far out 



CORN-FLOWER AND POPPY 163 

across the fields, and away on the horizon she 
saw a long, slender, black streak of cloud. She 
sprang to her feet and clapped her hands and 
called loudly to the workmen. From their 
places in the field they came running to do her 
bidding. 

'^ See! " cried the Princess, pointing with 
her umbrella, " a storm is rising. Build me 
a cabin from your sheaves. Be quick! I am 
the Princess! I am the king's daughter! " 

The workmen sprang to do as she wished. 
But one old man, who had long served her 
father, the king, bowed low before the Prin- 
cess and spoke. 

" Oh, beautiful Princess," he said, " pardon 
me, but there will be no rain. That is not a 
rain cloud. See how brightly the sun 
shines! " 

The Princess screamed with rage. 



164 THE POPPY 

" How dare you? " she cried. " How dare 
you? Is not the conimand of your Princess 
enough? Do you refuse to obey? " 

'' Your pardon, Princess," said the old man, 
sadly. *^ There is not a man in the field but 
would gladly lay down his life to serve the 
Princess. But your command is useless, and 
the sheaves are precious." 

The Princess was speechless and white with 
anger, but she still pointed to the dark cloud 
which was slowly sinking away. 

Quickly the reapers built the shelter for 
the Princess. They knew that the good 
sheaves which they wasted might have made 
bread for their children. Therefore it was 
sadly that the reapers wrought, knowing that 
the long winter would surely come. 

Presently a tiny house was finished. With 
golden sheaves of the ripe grain were the 



CORN-FLOWER AND POPPY 165 

floors laid. With sheaves were the walls 
built. With sheaves was the roof covered. 

When it was completed the Princess low- 
ered her red silk parasol, and, still frowning, 
passed inside. '' Come in! " she cried, 
sharply, and the little maid, with tears of pity 
in her blue eyes, followed. The workmen 
turned again to the uncut grain, and said noth- 
ing. 

By this time there was no cloud to be seen 
in all the blue heavens. The air was clear 
and cool. But the Princess and her little maid 
sat within the house of sheaves. 

Then without a second's warning an awful 
thing happened! Prom the clear sky came a 
flash of lightning. From the cloudless sky 
came a roll of thunder. 

From the harvest field shot up red tongues 
of flame, for the house of sheaves was on fire. 



166 THE POPPY 

The burning sheaves fell about the selfish 
Princess and her little maid. Nothing eould 
save them. 

When the flames died out, nothing was left 
but a heap of gray ashes. 

Then the old man who had begged the Prin- 
cess not to conm:iand the workmen's time for 
a useless whim turned away. He went sadly 
across the stubble fields and in at the great 
palace gates. He went straight up the steps 
to the throne where sat the king and queen. 
To them he told the fate of the two little girls. 

The parents were heart - broken. They 
mourned long for their little daughter. As the 
days went by and they sat in their loneliness 
they came to see that they had made a great 
mistake in letting their child pet her own 
selfishness. Wlien they saw this, they bowed 
their heads and wept aloud. 



CORN-FLOWER AND POPPY 167 

The following summer at harvest-time the 
reapers came upon two new flowers blooming 
in the spot where the house of sheaves was 
built. 

One flower was tall, and stood up proudly 
among the wheat. Its petals were as silky and 
scarlet as the gown of the Princess. In the 
breezes it tossed its head haughtily. 

Beside the scarlet poppy grew a pretty little 
blue corn-flower. 

*^ As blue as the eyes of the little maid," 
said the workmen in a whisper. '^ As dainty 
and simple as the fluttering blue gown she 
wore! " 

Then, turning slowly, they went again about 
their reaping, leaving the corn-flower and the 
poppy blooming side by side. 



ALL ABOUT THE POPPY 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to poppy family. 

Blossoms throughout summer and fall. 

Cultivated, grows in gardens— in Turkey 
and India it is cultivated for the opium it 
contains. 

Stem from one to three feet high— hairy. 

Leaves, divided, cut, and toothed— alter- 
nate, rather grayish green in colour. 

Blossoms of garden poppies of numerous 
colours— the white poppy is the opium poppy 
—petals are four in number, very much crum- 
pled in the bud— buds droop on stem, but 
flower is erect. 



THE SHOOTING -STAR 



THE SHOOTING-STAR 

AMONG THE GRASSES 

'' Come with me," said Jack. " I will show 
you where the shooting-stars grow.'' 

Phyllis did not need a second invitation. 
She snatched her hat and ran after her 
brother. 

In a few minutes they crawled under the 
fence which guarded the railroad track. For 
a while they walked the ties. Phyllis 's short 
legs began to grow weary. 

'' Look out, now," said Jack. '' You go on 
this side of the track, and I will go on the 
other. They are right along here! " 

171 



172 THE SHOOTING - STAR 

In a moment there was a glad cry from 
Phyllis. 

^' Here they are! '' she cried. " Come over. 
There are just bushels of them! " 

But Jack told her that there were quite as 
many on his own side of the track. 

The shooting-stars were not in the least 
hard to find. They stood up tall and straight, 
and shook their blossoms out in lovely fra- 
grant clusters. 

^^ What taU, reddish-brown stems they 
have," said Phyllis. '' They are so bare and 
so straight, not a leaf on them. They must 
be at least two feet tall." 

Then she looked down at the bottom of the 
flower stems. There were the leaves in a clus- 
ter about the root of the flower. These leaves 
were oblong, and lay close to the ground. 

At the top of the bare stems grew the bios- 



AMONG THE GRASSES 173 

soms. These flowers were in clusters of fives 
or sevens, their short stems starting out from 
the same place on the mother stem. 

The blossoms themselves were lovely. In 
colour they were white, pink, and sometimes a 
pale lilac. 

The petals were long and narrow and 
broader at the tip than at the base. They did 
not spread out as petals generally do. They 
turned back and huddled quite close to the 
mother stem. In fact, they entirely hid the 
five brownish-green sepals underneath. 

But the stamens were far from being hidden. 
There were five of them, and they stood out 
brown and stiff. Their tips came together and 
formed a cone which was tipped with yellow, 
and somewhat the shape of a bird's bill. 

^^ Ah/' said Phyllis, when she saw these 
stamens, ^* I see why some folks call you bird's 



174 THE SHOOTING - STAR 

bill. I see, too, why they call you shooting- 
stars." 

It was not long until the children's arms 
were full of the long-stemmed, leafless blos- 
soms. 

They were very sweet and fragrant. Their 
colours were very delicate and lovely. 

^^ Let us put them in the big flower-jars in 
the library," said Phyllis. 

" All right," said Jack. " 1 will fill the 
jars with water. You may arrange the 
flowers." 

'' And then we will call mother to see," said 
Phyllis, preparing to crawl under the fence 
and hurry homeward. 



THE SHOOTING - STARS 

Once, in the time called long ago, the little 
stars up in the sky jogged and jostled each 
other sadly. 

*' Why do you push and crowd? '' said their 
calm, quiet mother, the moon. 

** Our big brother, the evening star, will 
not allow us to shine! " cried the little stars. 
'' We think, O Mother Moon, that there are 
too many stars in the sky." 

** Do stand still," the evening star ex- 
claimed. '^ How can I shine steadily with a 
lot of little stars twinkling about on my 
toes? " 

'' Children! Children! " said the Mother 
Moon, roundly. 

176 



176 THE SHOOTING - STAR 

^' Oh," said one of the little star babies, '^ I 
wish we might live down on the earth. There 
are acres of room down there. How happy we 
might be on earth! " 

' ' We would not need to stand so still down 
there," said another star baby, longingly. 

*^ Would it really please you to live on the 
earth? " asked their father, the Night Wind. 

Every star baby twinkled and danced and 
beamed happily out at the Night Wind. 

'^ Oh," cried they, ** may we go? " 

'' Fold your pink and white dresses closely 
about you," said the Night Wind. '' Fasten 
on your hearts these little shields of gold. I 
will carry you to the earth." 

So there in the middle of the night, after the 
evening star and the big calm moon were fast 
asleep, the little stars slipped from the sky. 

Down and down and down the Night Wind 



THE SHOOTING - STARS 177 

carried the star babies. With their pink and 
white dresses folded closely about them they 
sped on and on. 

At length, when each star baby was quite 
tired out, the Night Wind kissed them and left 
them to sleep in soft beds of moss by the 
woodside. Dainty, cool ferns waved over 
them, and a tiny brook sang them to sleep. 

'' Ah," said the star babies, when they 
awoke in the morning, " let us stay always 
among the grasses and dance and play to- 
gether. Let us always wear our pink and 
white dresses folded closely as now. Let us 
always wear the tiny golden shields on our 
hearts. Let us grow for the earth children. 
Perhaps some day they will find us and play 
with us! " 

Thus it was that the shooting-stars first 
came to earth. Are you the little boy or the 



178 



THE SHOOTING - STAR 



little girl who knows where their father the 
Night Wind tucked the star babies away to 
sleep, when their mother, the moon, was not 
looking? 



ALL ABOUT THE SHOOTING - STAR 
OR BIRD'S BILL 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to primrose family. 

Blossoms in late May and June. 

Found in prairie and pasture fields of the 
South and West. 

Stem two to four feet high— naked, smooth 
—brownish green. 

Leaves grow in a cluster at the root— oblong 
—broader at apex than at base— he close to 
ground. 

Flowers in a cluster or umbel at the top of 
taU stem— petals oblong, broader at apex than 
at base— range in colour from white to lilac 

179 



180 THE SHOOTING - STAE 

and deep pink— petals turn back, leaving five 
hard brown and yellow stamens to form 
a cone, hence the name '^ bird's bill/' 



THE DAISY AND THE 
SUNFLOWER 



THE DAISY AND THE 
SUNFLOWER 

IN SUNSHINY CORNERS 

A white daisy one morning put on a dainty 
white collar and stepped out into the sun- 
light. 

A robin swung low on a weed beside her and 
sung a sweet song. The sun peered down into 
her golden heart. 

The daisy lifted her heart thankfully and 
looked up. Above her was the blue sky, with 
just a few white clouds. Above her were the 
slender whispering grasses and a whole field 
of sister daisies, all in their simple round col- 

183 



184 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

lars,— all with golden hearts opening to the 
call of the sunshine. 

*' The world is beautiful/' said the daisy. 

" Isn't it? " said Phyllis, sitting in the grass 
quite near and stringing a daisy chain. 

'' You chose a lovely spot for your home," 
said Phyllis. 

'' Indeed, I did not choose," said the daisy, 
^^ the wind put me down here when I was just 
a seed baby. The sunshine and the rain-drops 
called me, and I came up." 

^' What a sweet, simple little flower you 
are," said Phyllis. 

'^ I am just a common white daisy," said the 
flower. '' Some call me the ox-eyed daisy." 

'^ I wonder if it would make you proud if 
you knew what the botanists call you," Phyl- 
lis asked. " I studied the word out myself 
one day from a big book."' 



im 




What a sweet, 
simple little 
flower you are,' said 
Phyllis" 



IN SUNSHINY CORNERS 185 

** What was the name I " 

^' It was Chrys-an-the-mum Leu-can-the- 
mum! " laughed PhyUis. '' If you like I will 
call you by that name always." 

*^ Oh, no, just once in awhile for fun," said 
the daisy. ^^ It's too big for every-day use." 

Then for awhile the two were silent. Phyl- 
lis went on stringing her daisy chains. The 
daisy looked again toward the sun. 

By and bye when the sun grew lower in the 
west, a shadow fell on the daisy. 

She looked up. Between her and the sun 
was a flower. It was very taU. To the daisy 
it seemed to touch the sky. To Phyllis it 
seemed as high as the back garden fence, and 
that was seven feet. Phyllis guessed better 
than the daisy. The flower did not touch the 
sky. But it was just seven feet and one inch 
high. 



186 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

The tall flower did not look at the two over 
whom it was casting its shadow. It looked 
directly at the sun. When the sun was directly 
overhead, the flower looked straight up. 
When it was in the east, the flower turned its 
face eastward. Now it was looking westward. 

*^ Perhaps it will look at us when the sun 
sets," said Phyllis. 

'' I really believe it is my big brother," said 
the little daisy. '' See, he looks like me except 
that he is forty times bigger. His ^^ellow col- 
lar is made of many petals set in just the same 
way as my white petals. His centre is brown 
and big, and specked with yellow like gold 
beads. But his heart is round, and reaches up 
to the sunshine just as mine does." 

'' Oh, little daisy," laughed Phyllis, '' your 
^ big brother ' is a sunflower. But perhaps 
you are right. His collar is made after the 



IN SUNSHINY CORNERS 187 

same round fasliion as your own simple white 
one. In fact, he is shaped exactly like you. 
But he hasn't your colours, and he is many 
times larger than you." 

'' Then he can care for me," said the daisy. 

'' He will never look at you," said Phyllis. 
'' He always looks at the sun. Your leaves are 
not at all alike, are they? See, yours are 
slender and cut and ragged. The simflower 
leaves are big and heart-shaped. Wouldn't 
you rather be woven into my chain than stand 
here and look up at the sunflower? " 

^* Oh, no, no, no! " cried the daisy. ^^ Leave 
me ! Perhaps some day he may look down on 
me. I am sure he is my brother." 

^^ I will go to my book and find out," said 
Phyllis, springing to her feet and running to 
the house. 

In fifteen minutes she ran breathlessly back 



188 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

to the daisy. She grasped the stalk of the sun- 
flower and turned its face toward the daisy. 

'' She is your sister,'' cried Phyllis. ^^ Daisy, 
Mr. Sunflower is your big brother. You both 
belong to the same family, and he has a name 
in the botany as long as your own. He is 
Mr. He-li-an-thus Gi-gan-teus, but in every- 
day language he is just a tall sunflower." The 
sunflower swung back to its place and did not 
look again at its little sister, the daisy. 

^' Will you go now into my daisy chain? " 
asked Phyllis. 

'' No," said the daisy, ^* let me remain here 
with my big brother." 

'' Well, good-bye, then," said Phyllis, gath- 
ering up her chain. ^' I hope he will take good 
care of you. Good-bye, little Miss Chrys-an- 
the-mum Leu-can-the-mum! Good-bye, Mr. 
He-li-an-thus Gi-gan-teus! '' 



THE DAISY 

Out in the country, close by the roadside, 
there was a country-house. Certainly you 
yourself have once seen it. 

Before it is a little garden with flowers and 
palings which are painted green. Close by it, 
by the ditch in the midst of the most beautiful 
green grass, grew a little daisy. 

The Sim shone as warmly and as brightly 
upon it as on the great splendid garden 
flowers, and so it grew from hour to hour. 

One morning it stood in full bloom with its 
little shining white leaves spreading like rays 
round the little yellow sun in the centre. 

It never thought that no one would notice 
it down in the grass, and that it was a poor, 

189 



190 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

despised floweret. It was very merr}^, and 
turned to the warm siin, looked up at it, and 
listened to the lark carolling high in the air. 

The little daisy was as happy as if it were 
a great holiday, and yet it was only a Monday. 
All the children were at school. AVhile they 
sat on their benches learning, it sat on its little 
green stalk, and learned also from the warm 
sim, and from all around, how good God is. 

And the daisy was very glad that every- 
thing that it silently felt was sung so loudly 
and charmingly by the lark. And the daisy 
looked up with a kind of respect to the happy 
bird who could sing and fly; but it was not 
at all sorrowful because it could not fly and 
sing also. 

" I can see and hear," it thought; '' the 
sun shines on me, and the forest kisses me. 
Oh, how richly have I been gifted." 



THE DAISY 191 

Within the palings stood many stiff, aris- 
tocratic flowers — the less scent they had the 
more they flaunted. 

The peonies blew themselves out to be 
greater than the roses, but size will not do 
it. The tulips had the most splendid colours, 
and they knew that, and held themselves bolt 
upright that they might be seen more plainly. 

They did not notice the little daisy outside 
there, but the daisy looked at them the more 
and thought, ^^ How rich and beautiful they 
are. Yes; the pretty bird flies across to them 
and visits them. I am glad that I stand so 
near them, for, at any rate, I can enjoy the 
sight of their splendour! " 

Just as she thought that — '' keevit! '^ 
Down came flying the lark, but not down 
to the peonies and tulips — no, down into 
the grass to the lowly daisy, which started 



192 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

so with joy that it did not know what to 
think. 

The little bird danced round about it and 
sang, " Oh, how soft the grass is! And see 
what a lovely little flower, with gold in its 
heart and silver on its dress! " For the yellow 
point in the daisy looked like gold, and the 
little leaves around it shone silvery white. 

How happy was the little daisy — no one 
can conceive how happy! The bird kissed it 
with his beak, sang to it, and then flew up 
again into the blue air. 

A quarter of an hour passed, at least, before 
the daisy could recover itself. Half ashamed, 
but inwardly rejoiced, it looked at the other 
flowers in the garden, for they had seen the 
honour and happiness it had gained, and 
must understand what a joy it was. 

But the tulips stood up twice as stiff as 



THE DAISY 193 

before. They looked quite peaky in the face, 
and quite red, for they were vexed. 

The peonies were quite wrong-headed. It 
was well they could not speak, or the daisy 
would have received a good scolding. The 
poor little flower could see very well that they 
were not in a good humour, and that hurt 
it. 

At this moment there came into the garden 
a girl with a great sharp, shiny knife. She 
went straight up to the tulips and cut off one 
after another of them. 

^^ Oh! " sighed the daisy, '^ that is dreadful! 
Now it is all over with them! " 

Then the girl went away with the tulips. 
The daisy was glad to stand out in the grass 
and be only a poor little flower. It felt very 
grateful. When the sun went down, it folded 
its leaves and went to sleep. It dreamed all 



194 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

night long about the sun and the pretty little 
bird. 

The next morning, when the flower again 
happily stretched out all its white leaves like 
little arms toward the light and the air, it rec- 
ognized the voice of the bird, but the song he 
was singing sounded mournfully. 

Yes, the poor lark had reason to be sad. 
He had been caught, and now sat in a cage 
close by the open window. 

He sang of free and happy roaming. He 
sang of the young green corn in the fields. 
He sang of the glorious journey he might 
make on his wings high through the air. 

The poor lark was not in good spirits, for 
there he sat, a prisoner in a cage. 

The little daisy wished very much to help 
him. But what was it to do? Yes, that was 
difficult to make out. 



THE DAISY 195 

The daisy quite forgot how everything was 
so beautiful around, how warm the sun shone, 
and how splendidly white its own leaves were. 

Ah! it could only think of the imprisoned 
bird, and how it was powerless to do anything 
for hmi. 

Just then two little boys came out of the 
garden. One of them carried in his hand the 
knife which the little girl had used to cut off 
tulips. The boys went straight up to the little 
daisy, which could not at all make out what 
they wanted. 

^' Here we may cut a capital piece of turf 
for the lark," said one of the boys; and he 
began to cut off a square patch round about 
the daisy, so that the floAver remained standing 
in its piece of grass. 

^' Tear off the flower! " said the other boy, 
and the daisy trembled with fear, for to be 



196 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

torn off would be to lose its life; and now it 
wanted particularly to live, as it was to be 
given with the piece of turf to the captive 
lark. 

^^ No; let it stay," said the other boy; '' it 
makes such a nice ornament." 

And so it remained, and was put into the 
lark's cage. But the poor bird complained 
aloud of Ms lost liberty, and beat his wings 
against the wires of his prison; and the little 
daisy could not speak — could say no consol- 
ing word to him, gladly as it would have done 
so. And thus the whole morning passed. 

'' Here is no water," said the captive lark. 
'^ They are all gone out, and have forgotten to 
give me anything to drink. My throat is dry 
and burning. It is like fire and ice within me, 
and the air is so close. Oh, I must die! I 
must leave the warm sunshine, the fresh 



THE DAISY 197 

green, and all the splendour that God has 
created! " 

And then he thrust his beak into the cool 
turf to refresh himself a little with it. Then 
the bird's eye fell upon the daisy, and he 
nodded to it and kissed it with his beak, and 
said: 

'' You also must wither in here, poor little 
flower. They have given you to me with the 
little patch of green grass on which you grow, 
instead of the whole world which was mine 
out there ! Every little blade of grass shall be 
a great tree for me, and every one of your fra- 
grant leaves a great flower. Ah, you only tell 
me how much I have lost! " 

** If I could only comfort him! '' thought the 
daisy. 

It could not stir a leaf; but the scent which 
streamed forth from its delicate leaves was far 



198 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

stronger than is generally found in these 
flowers; the bird also noticed that, and, 
though he was fainting with thirst, and in his 
pain plucked up the green blades of grass, he 
did not touch the flower. 

The evening came on, and yet nobody ap- 
peared to bring the poor bird a drop of water. 
Then he stretched out his pretty wings and 
beat the air frantically with them; his song 
changed to a mournful piping, his little head 
sank down toward the flower, and the bird's 
heart broke with want and yearning. Then 
the flower could not fold its leaves, as it had 
done on the previous evening, and sleep; it 
drooped, sorrowful and sick, toward the 
earth. 

Not till the next morn did the boys come; 
and when they found the dead bird they wept 
— wept many tears — and dug him a neat 



I 



THE DAISY 199 

grave, which they adorned with leaves and 
flowers. 

The bird's corpse was put into a pretty red 
box, for he was to be royally buried — the 
poor bird! While he was alive and sang they 
forgot him, and let him sit in his cage and 
su:ffer want; but now that he was dead he had 
adornment and many tears. 

But the patch of turf with the daisy on it 
was thrown out into the highroad; no one 
thought of the flower that had felt the most 
for the little bird, and would have been so 
glad to console him. 



DAISY NURSES 

The daisies white are nursery maids, 

With frills upon their caps; 
And daisy buds are little babies 

They tend upon their laps. 
Sing Heigh ho! while the wind sweeps low, 
Both nurses and babies are nodding— just so. 

The daisy babies never cry, 

The nurses never scold; 
They never crush the dainty frills 

About their cheeks of gold; 
But prim and white in gay sunlight 
They're nid— nid-nodding— pretty sight! 

200 



DAISY NURSES 201 

The daisies love the golden sun, 

Up in the clear blue sky; 
He gazes kindly down at them, 

And winks his joyful eye, 
While soft and slow, all in row. 
Both nurses and babies are nodding— just so. 



A SUNFLOWER STORY 

Clyte was a water nymph, and she lived at 
the bottom of the sea. 

The white sea-sand was Clyte 's carpet, a 
pink seashell was her bed, and the soft sea- 
weed was her pillow. 

The seaweeds and the sea-flowers made 
groves and gardens for Clyte. She was quite 
the happiest nymph in the whole great sea. 

One morning Clyte awoke in her seashell 
cradle with a laugh. She flung on her soft 
green dress and clapped her hands to call her 
servants. 

^^ Bring my largest, pinkest seashell car- 
riage," she ordered. *^ And to-day I shall 



A SUNFLOWER STORY 203 

drive the turtles, for they are strong and can 
travel far." 

*^ Take me wherever you like," said Clyte, 
when she was comfortably seated in her big 
seashell carriage. '' All the sea-bottom is 
lovely. I can never tire of it! " 

The turtles drew Clyte on and on and on. 
They passed great forests of seaweed. They 
passed pink seashell after pink seashell. 

They glided over smooth sandy sea-bottom. 
They crawled aroimd great ragged-edged 
rocks. 

Indeed, so long was the ride and so easy the 
carriage that Clyte at length fell asleep. She 
did not waken until a big wave carried Clyte, 
carriage, turtles, and all ashore. 

Then Clyte opened her big brown eyes very 
wide. She had never before seen the land! 

The blue, blue sky was above her. Her own 



204 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

blue, blue sea was before her. There was 
green grass at her feet, and such flowers as 
never grew in her deep sea garden. 

In the trees were birds whose songs sounded 
sweeter even than the wave-music which 
always lulled Clyte to sleep. 

Clyte looked again at the blue sky. Across 
it rode the sun king in a chariot which shone 
like blazing gold. 

When Clyte saw the sun king she knew why 
the earth w^as different from the sea. She 
saw how all living things looked up and smiled 
when the sun king passed that way. 

She saw how the sun king smiled kindly 
down on every living thing. Little Clyte 
sighed and smiled and was happy, for she 
liked the strange land. 

^^ All, me," said Clyte, '' I wish I were 
a land-child. Then I, too, might ever look up 



A SUNFLOWER STORY 205 

to this sun king. But I shall do my best to 
serve him. Every morning I shall drive my 
swiftest goldfish to this spot that I may be 
here to welcome him. I shall look up to him all 
day long, and when he sinks to bed in the west 
my face shall be turned his way! " 

And Clyte did as she said. Each day her 
swiftest goldfish drew her to the shore. There 
she watched the sim king's journey. 

But behold ! one evening when the pink sea- 
shell carriage drew up on the beach, Clyte did 
not move. The goldfish rubbed their scaly 
sides together impatiently, but Clyte did not 
come. 

Then, looking, the goldfish beheld a strange 
thing. Clyte 's little bare feet were rooted 
fast in the soil. Her lovely green dress was 
but a slim green stalk with ruffling green 
leaves. 



206 DAISY AND SUNFLOWER 

Her beautiful golden hair was changed to 
a circle of yellow petals, and from their midst 
looked forth the brown eyes of Clyte. 

Clyte never again looked at her goldfish nor 
rode in her seashell carriage. Morning, noon, 
and night she stood with her little feet deep 
rooted in the soil, and her bright face turned 
ever toward the sun king. 

^' Ha! Ha! '' laugh the goldfish, as they 
splash and slash in the water. " Our mistress, 
Clyte, has gone to live on the land. She has 
forgotten us and her deep-sea home. She has 
become the flower of the sun king! " 

" A sunflower! A sunflower! " cry all the 
little goldfish, splashing mightily as they 
dodge out of the way of the slow-crawling 
turtles who first di*ew Clyte to the shore. 



ALL ABOUT THE T\^ITE OR 
OX-EYED DAISY 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to composite family. 

Botanical name Chrysanthemmn Leucan- 
tliemum. 

Blossoms from Jmie until September. 

Grows in meadows, along roadsides— every- 
where, in fact, that it can get a foothold— 
a weed— difficult to destroy. 

Stem from one to three feet tall— slender. 

Leaves growing on stem— deeply cut or 
toothed. 

Flower simple round collar of slender, nar- 
row petals surrounding the yellow centre. 
English daisy is pink. 

207 



ALL ABOUT THE SUNFLOWER 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to composite family. 

Blossoms in smnmer and fall. 

Grows in gardens, lanes, and fields. 

Stem three to ten feet high— rough— hairy 
—branched. 

Leaves— set close on stem— large— pointed 
—rough— coarsely toothed — opposite. 

Flowers— large— disc or centre yellowish 
brown— petals bright yellow. 



THE GOLDENROD AND THE 
ASTER 



THE GOLDENROD AND 
THE ASTER 

ON THE HILLSIDE 

PhyUis sighed. 

The goldenrod leaned its long yellow plume 
against her, and the aster looked up with soft 
blue eyes. 

" Whj do you sigh? '' both flowers seemed 
to ask in a breath. 

'' You are both most lovely/' said Phyllis, 
'' but I sighed because you are a certain sign 
that summer is coming to an end. Soon the 
blossoms will be asleep, and the snow and ice 
will be here and cold winds will be blowing." 

211 



212 GOLDENROD AND ASTER 

" Why, Phyllis, we have been all summer 
getting ready for you,'' said the goldenrod. 
" And this is the way you greet us! 

'* In the early spring w^e began to grow. 
Our green leaves and tall stems have been 
reaching up to the air and the sunlight for 
months. 

'' A week ago a fleck of yellow appeared 
at the tip of my drooping stem. To-day my 
blossom is like a yellow plume." 

'^ How graceful you are! " said Phyllis. 
'^ Farther up the hill, among the rocks, I saw 
some goldenrod which stood up stiff and 
straight. It truly looked like a rod of gold." 

'' Oh, we are a big family," laughed the 
goldenrod. " They tell me there are forty- 
two different goldenrod blossoms— all yellow 
as gold, all cheery as sunshine— all with a 
message of autumn. 



ON THE HILLSIDE 213 

^' We are weeds, to be sui'e. We grow along 
the roadsides. We stand knee-deep in the 
meadow-grass. We hang over the brooksides. 
We wander up the hills. 

<< We grow beside the rocks in thin barren 
soil. We grow just outside your garden in the 
loose black earth. We flourish everywhere. 
We shake out our masses of starry blossoms 
wherever we can find a foothold. '' 

** And your timid little playfellow, the 
aster? " 

" Aster means a star," said the goldenrod. 
'' Don't you see aster's starry blossoms? 

a There are as many different kind of asters 
as there are goldenrods. They grow every- 
where by our sides. Sometimes the asters are 
blue. Sometimes they are purple. Sometimes 
they are white. Their discs are round and 
yellow. 



214 GOLDENROD AND ASTER 

*' Sometimes the asters blossom along the 
stem in somewhat the feathery fashion of 
goldenrods. At other times they grow in clus- 
ters more like the shooting-star." 

'' May I gather you? " asked Phyllis. 

'' Take us both. We bloomed for you," said 
the aster. 

So it happened that a little girl went home 
that night with a great armful of goldenrod 
and asters for her mother's vases. 




Take us both. We 
bloomed for 
you,' said the aster" 



LITTLE PURPLE ASTER 

Little purple aster, sitting on her stem, 
Peeping at the passers-by, beckoning to them, 
Staring o'er at goldenrod, by the pasture bars. 
Giving him a timid nod when he turns his 
stars. 

Little purple aster waits till very late, 

Till the flowers have faded from the garden 
gate; 

Then, when all is dreary, see her buds un- 
furled. 

Come to cheer a changeful and sombre autumn 
world. 



215 



GOLDENROD AND ASTER 

Two little girls once lived at the foot of the 
highest hill in the world. One little girl had 
hair as yellow as the golden sunshine. The 
other little girl had eyes as purple as the 
violets of springtime. 

*^ Do you know who lives at the top of this 
hill? " asked Golden Hair one day. 

" No. Who? " said Blue Eyes. 

'' Don't you really know? " asked Golden 
Hair. 

" No, I really do not know! '' answered Blue 
Eyes. 

'' Well, then, I will tell you," said the little 
girl, shaking out her golden curls. " Up at 

216 



GOLDENROD AND ASTER 217 

the top of this highest hill in the world lives 
an old woman. In her orchard are beautiful 
ripe apples, which any one may have for the 
picking. In her garden are fluffy-tailed, tame 
squirrels, which one may play with all day 
long. In her cupboard are jars and jars of 
sweet cakes, of which one may eat as many 
as she chooses." 

'^ Oh, let us visit the old woman," said Blue 
Eyes, springing up. 

'' But listen," said Golden Hair. ^* There is 
something very strange about the old woman. 
They say she can change rabbits into frogs 
and birds into fish and little boys and girls into 
whatsoever she chooses." 

^' Oh, let us go and see her! " again cried 
sturdy little Blue Eyes. 

^^ Are you not afraid? " asked Golden 
Hair. 



218 GOLDENEOD AND ASTER 

'' Oh, no/' said Blue E^^es, '' she would not 
do us harm, for she is kind to the squirrels 
in her garden. Perhaps she will change us 
into something very lovely. Let us go! " 

So the two little girls set out. Hand in hand 
they travelled up the great hill. There was 
a curious smoky haze in the air, and the sun- 
shine fell through the haze in long golden rays. 
The wind stirred the oak boughs, and the 
acorns dropped to the ground. The golden 
and red leaves fell at every breath. They 
rustled beneath the feet of the children as they 
walked. 

The mellow apples hung on the boughs, yel- 
low and russet and red, or fell with sharp 
thuds to the sod below. Everywhere was the 
late summer sunshine. 

At length the children passed the brook and 
the oak grove and the orchard lands, and came 



GOLDENROD AND ASTER 219 

in sight of the tiny old hut where the witch 
lived. 

In the doorway sat the old woman, and 
about her the squirrels played and the flowers 
bloomed. 

'' What do you wish'? '' asked she, look- 
ing up kindly at Golden Hair and Blue 
Eyes. 

It was brave little Blue Eyes who spoke, 
while Golden Hair shyly hung her head until 
the curls covered her face. 

" We have heard," said Blue Eyes, '' that 
you are very wise and very powerful, and can 
do wonderful things. Is it true that you can 
change rabbits into frogs and birds into fishes 
and little boys and girls into whatsoever you 
wish^ " 

** And if it were true," said the old woman, 
quite gently, " what would you like me to do^ 



220 GOLDENROD AND ASTER 

Do you wish me to change a bird into a fish 
or a rabbit into a frog? '' 

^' Oh, no," cried Golden Hair, at last looking 
up. " Indeed we did not come to see that. 
We came to ask you how we may do much 
good." 

*' We would like to become a pleasure and 
a joy to every one who meets us," said little 
Blue Byes. 

'^ Ah," said the old woman, " then you shall 
indeed have your wish. But first stay awhile 
and play in my garden. When the sun sets 
you may set out down the hill. " 

So all that long golden afternoon the chil- 
dren played in the old woman's wonderful 
garden. When the sun set she kissed them 
both and herself led them part way down the 
hillside. 

** You shall have your wish," she said, at 



GOLDENROD AND ASTER 221 

parting, ^^ you shall become a pleasure and a 
joy to every one who meets you! " 

The next morning on the hillside two 
flowers were found, growing side by side. One 
was fluffy and soft and yellow as the curls 
which fell over the cheeks of little Golden 
Hair. The other blossom was bright and 
purple, and looked bravely and fearlessly out 
on the world and the sunshine, like the blue 
eyes of the other little girl. 

You may still find the little girls climbing 
the hills side by side. They bring pleasure 
and joy to all who meet them. 

You may call the sisters little Golden Hair 
and Blue Eyes, or, if you really wish, you may 
name them goldenrod and aster. 



GOLDENROD 

'^ How in the world did I happen to bloom 
All by myself alone, 
By the side of a dusty, comitry road. 
With only a rough old stone 

^' For company? " And the goldenrod, 
As she drooped her yellow head, 
Gave a mournful sigh. " Who cares for me, 
Or knows I'm alive? '' she said. 



<< 



A snow-white daisy I'd like to be, 
Half -hid in the cool green sod: 

Or a pink spirea, or sweet wild rose— 
But I'm only a goldenrod. 



I 



222 



GOLDENROD 223 

^' Nobody knows that I'm here, nor cares 
Whether I live or die! 
Lovers of beautiful flowers, who wants 
Such a conmion thing as I? " 

But all of a sudden she ceased her plaint, 
For a child's voice cried in glee, 
^' Here's a dear little lovely goldenrod! 
Did you bloom on purpose for me? 

** Down by the brook the tall spirea 
And the purple asters nod, 
And beckon to me— but more than all 
Do I love you, goldenrod! " 

She raised the flower to her rosy lips. 
And merrily kissed its face, 
*^ Ah! now I see," said the goldenrod, 
'* How this is the very place 



224 GOLDENROD AND ASTER 

'' That was meant for me; and I'm glad I 
bloomed 
Just here by the road alone, 
With nobody near for company 
But a dear old mossy stone! " 



i 



i 



ALL ABOUT THE GOLDENROD 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to composite family. 

A fall flower, which sometimes blossoms as 
early as July. Found in fields, roadsides, 
woods, springs up wild everywhere, but florists 
are almost universally unsuccessful in pro- 
ducing it in cultivated state. 

Leaves are long, narrow, and often rough. 

Stems vary, there being a hundred or more 
species of goldenrod growing in America- 
some stems are slender and gracefully droop- 
ing—others stiff and straight— others loosely 
waving. 

Flowers are yellow, and all grow in racemes 
or in clusters along stem. 



ALL ABOUT THE ASTER 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to composite family. 

A fall flower, appearing with the goldenrod 
and growing in the same sorts of places. 

Stems— tall, rough, inclined to be woody- 
branching— often of a reddish colour near the 
ground. 

Leaves — opposite — long — narrow. Smooth 
underneath and rough above. 

Flowers range in colour from purple to blue 
and white— the centre discs are yellow. There 
are many species of aster, and they branch and 
blossom differently— sometimes the flowers 



ALL ABOUT THE ASTER 227 

are set closely in bunches, sometimes in loose 
panicles— they vary in size from a half-inch 
to an inch and a half in diameter. 



I 



THE FRINGED GENTIAN 



THE FRINGED 
GENTIAN 

AT THE EKD OF SUMMER 

The frost came one night and put the late 
flowers to sleep. The goldenrods dropped 
their gold and turned brown. The asters 
closed their starlike eyes and did not open 
them again. 

Here and there a late dandelion raised its 
head bravely in defiance of Jack Frost. Here 
and there a cricket chirped cheerily just as 
another sign of fall. 

Phyllis wandered over the garden, the field, 
the pasture. Not a single blossom. The iris 

231 



232 THE FRINGED GENTIAN 

by the pond had left its swordlike leaves to 
say good-bye, and even they were brown and 
dry and broken. The daisy and the big sun- 
flower were hanging their heads and shaking 
out the baby-seeds and putting them to bed 
for the winter. 

Phyllis remembered the request of the wild 
roses, and again went to the big ditch. There 
she found the crimson berries standing alone 
amid the leafless branches. 

" Take us, Phyllis! '' they cried. " Take us 
with you, for winter is coming and we are 
lonely without the green leaves and green 
stems! " 

So Phyllis gathered the rose-berries. She 
was turning to go when she spied a blue 
flower looking up at her. 

'' Why," said Phyllis, " who are you, and 
why do you come so late? " 



AT THE END OF SUMMER 233 

'' Don't you know me? I am the gentian/' 
said the flower. 

'' I was afraid no one would see me. I 
stretched my stem up at least two feet. I had 
but one blossom, but I made it as beautiful and 
perfect as I could. 

'' Do you see how I spread the lobes of my 
corolla so as to display the fringed edges? I 
only shake them out in the sunshine." 

^^ What a beautiful blue your blossom 
is!'' 

^' Yes, but as I grow older my colour changes 
to a brownish purple. Will you come and see 
me again before Jack Frost takes me? " 

^^I'U try," said PhyUis. 

In fact, she went back to the fringed gen- 
tian the very next day. 

** I've learned a beautiful poem about you," 
she said, as she jmiiped across the brook. 



234 THE FRINGED GENTIAN 

'* William Cullen Bryant, who loved all beau- 
tifiil tilings in nature, wrote about you.'' 

The gentian shook her fringed ruffles out 
more broadly, and Phyllis repeated these 
verses before she ran back to the house; 

'' ' Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, 
When woods are bare and birds are flown. 
And frost and shortening days portend 
The aged year is near his end. 

" ' Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye 
Look through its fringes to the sky^, 
Blue— blue— as if that sky let fall 
A flower from its cerulean wall.' '^ 



FRINGED GENTIAN 

Tliou blossom, bright with autumn dew, 
And coloured with heaven's own blue, 
That openest when the quiet light 
Succeeds the keen and frosty night: 

Thou comest not when violets lean 

O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen. 

Or columbines, in purple dressed, 

Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. 

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye 
Look through its fringes to the sky. 
Blue— blue— as if that sky let fall 
A flower from its cerulean wall. 

235 



236 THE FRINGED GENTIAN 

Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, 
When woods are bare and birds have flown, 
And frost and shortening days portend 
The aged year is near his end. 

—Bryant. 

i 



FOR A NIGHT'S SHELTER 

The Queen of the Fairies lost her way one 
night as she returned from the dance in the 
deU. 

On and on, around and around, she wan- 
dered, but in no direction could she find her 
home. 

Poor little Fairy Queen! The world seemed 
big and lonely and very dark, and she was 
afraid. 

** If I might only find shelter among these 
stranger flowers," she thought. " Perhaps 
they would keep me overnight." 

So the Queen of the Fairies came shyly up 

237 



r;:. 



238 THE FRINGED GENTIAN 

to a tall purple flower bending its heavy head 
in sleep. 

" Good flower," cried the Fairy Queen, in 
her soft little voice, '' will you take me in for 
the night I 1 have lost my way, and I am very, 
very tired/' 

The purple gentian awoke. 

'^ Why, you poor little thing,'' it said, '' who 
are you? You are too little to be out in the 
dark alone. Come up here to me. I wifl cover 
you over until the sun comes in the morning." 

Then the tired little Fairy Queen climbed 
up to the heart of the gentian. It wrapped its 
fringed purple petals snugly about her, and 
she slept happily all night long. 

When the day dawned she hastened away. 
As she slipped down the stem the fringed pur- 
ple petals unfurled. The Fairy Queen turned 
and looked up at the flower. 



FOR A NIGHT'S SHELTER 239 

^* You were kind to me when I was in 
trouble/' she said. '' I wish all the fairies in 
Fairyland to know where they may find a 
friend in time of need. 

^* Hereafter you and your children may 
have the power to open to receive the warm 
sunlight, because all through the night you 
wrapped me so snugly and so safely.'' 



ALL ABOUT THE FRINGED GENTIAN 

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS 

Belongs to gentian family. 

Blossoms in late fall. 

Fomid usually in moist meadows. 

Leaves— narrow, lance-shaped— opposite— 
somewhat heart-shaped at base. 

Stems— two to three feet high— usually 
branching— stiff and erect— not graceful. 

Flowers— large blue— a darker blue when 
grown in the sunshine— lighter when in the 
shade— flowers clustered at summit of stem— 
sometimes at axils of leaves— calyx four-cleft. 
Corolla four-spreading, lobes fringed on the 
edges— corolla of fringed gentian opens in the 

240 



ABOUT THE FRINGED GENTIAN 241 

sunlight, but closes on approach of darkness 
or. storm. 

There are several varieties of gentians, one 
of which is the closed or bottle gentian, the 
coroUa of which always remains in folds. 



THE END. 



BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 
The Little Colonel Stories. byAnnie 

Fellows Johnston. 

Being three " Little Colonel" stories in the Cosy 
Corner Series, " The Little Colonel," " Two Little 
Knights of Kentucky," and " The Giant Scissors," put 
into a single volume, owing to the popular demand for a 
uniform series of the stories dealing with one of the 
most popular of juvenile heroines. 

I vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, fully illus- 
trated $1-50 

Tile Little Colonel's House Party. 

By Annie Fellows Johnston. Illustrated by 

Louis Meynell. 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover $i.oo 

The Little Colonel's Holidays. By 

Annie Fellows Johnston. Illustrated by L. J. 

Bridgman. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . $1.50 

The Little Colonel's Hero. By annie 

Fellows Johnston. Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 
One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, 

^1.20 net (postage extra) 

The Little Colonel at Boarding 

School. By Annie Fellows Johnston. Illus- 
trated by E. B. Barry. 

I vol., large i2mo, cloth . $1.20 «<?/ (postage extra) 
Since the time of " Little Women," no juvenile heroine 
has been better beloved of her child readers than Mrs. 
Johnston's " Little Colonel." Each succeeding book has 
been more popular than its predecessor, and now thou- 
sands of little readers wait patiently each year for the 
appearance of " the new Little Colonel Book." 



Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 



Beautiful Joe's Paradise ; or, the island 

OF Brotherly Love. A sequel to *' Beautiful Joe." 
By Marshall Saunders, author of " Beautiful Joe," 
" For His Country," etc. With fifteen full-page plates 
and many decorations from drawings by Charles Liv- 
ingston Bull. 
One vol., library i2mo, cloth decorative, 

$1.20 net^ postpaid, $1.32 

"Will be immensely enjoyed by the boys and girls who 
read it." — Pittsburg Gazette. 

" Miss Saunders has put life, humor, action, and tenderness 
into her story. The book deserves to be a favorite." — 
Chicago Record-Herald. 

" This book revives the spirit of * Beautiful Joe ' capitally. 
It is fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as un- 
usual as anything in the animal book line that has seen the 
light. It is a book for juveniles — old and young." — Phila- 
delphia Item. 

'Tilda Jane. By Marshall Saunders, author 
of " Beautiful Joe," etc. 

One vol., i2mo, fully illustrated, cloth, decorative 
cover $1.50 

"No more amusing and attractive child's story has ap- 
peared for a long time than this quaint and curious recital of 
the adventures of that pitiful and charming little runaway. 

" It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books 
that win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down 
until I had finished it — honest I And I am sure that every 
one, young or old, who reads will be proud and happy to 
make the acquaintance of the delicious waif. 

" I cannot think of any better book for children than this. 
I commend it unreservedly." — Cyrus Townsend Brady. 

The Story of the Qraveleys. By mar- 
shall Saunders, author of " Beautiful Joe's Para- 
dise," " 'Tilda Jane," etc. 

Library i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. 
Barry .... $1.20 net (postage extra) 
Here vft have the haps and mishaps, the trials and 
triumphs, of a delightful New England family, of whose 
devotion and sturdiness it will do the reader good to 
hear. From the kindly, serene-souled grandmother to 
the buoyant madcap, Berty, these Graveleys are folk of 
fibre and blood — genuine human beings. 



NOV 19 1903 



